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BESSIE  IN  THE  CITY. 


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ROBERT   CARTER   AND  BROTHERS, 

New  York, 


Bessie  in  City, 


FBONHSPIBCE. 


^LJlikSgr^&Jl&..S2r-.lLjikS2r-^^^ 


mmt\ 


j''r-^r-'Si5"'\?^itr-^5r'T?'^5^^^ 


ESSIE   IN  THE  ^ITY. 


BY 


y^OAJVJ^A    H.    MATHEWS, 

AUTHOR    OF    "BESSIE    AT    THE    SEA-SIDE. 


'  Little  drops  of  water,  little  grains  of  sand, 
Make  the  mighty  ocean  and  the  pleasant  land.' 


ROBERT  CARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

530    Broa.dway. 


Entered,  a*:cording  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

ROBERT  CARTER  A^'D  BROTHERS, 

n.tt.eClerk'sOfficeoftl.eDi.txictCourtoftl.eUnited  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


^0  the  ^hiWtfen  of 
DR.   JOHN  MURRAY  CARNOCHAN^ 

THE  KDfD  FRIEND  AlfD  PHYSICIA2T 

To  whose  skill  and  patience  I  owe  a  life-long 
debt  of  gratitude, 

Is    THIS    Little    Book 
Most  Affectionately  Dedicated. 


CONTENTS. 


«I8gl' 


/.  Little  Friends  at  Home,  , 
II.  Maggie's  Plan^ 
III.  TJie  Miser, 
IV.  Flossy,    .... 
V.  The  ColoneVs  Story, 
VI.   The  Story  Contitiued, 
VII.   The  Peach- Stones,    . 
VIII.  The  Netv  Gloves, 
IX.   T^o  Lost  Pets, 
JC.  Home  Again, 
XI.  New  Plans, 
XIL  A  Visitor,      .... 

XIII.  The  Bank-Notes, 

XIV.  Discovery,      .... 
XV.   The  Snow, 

XVI.  Shoppiyigfor  Christmas, 
XVII.   Christmas,  .         .         • 

XVIII.   The  Purchase  of  the  Library, 


Page 
9 

30 

52 

73 

104 

127 

147 
167 
187 
212 
236 

255 
281 
297 
309 
330 
352 
378 


BESSIE  IN  THE  CITY, 

I. 

LITTLE  FRIENDS  AT  HOME, 

AMMA,"  said  Maggie  Bradford,  as  she 
sat  upon  the  floor  in  her  mother's 
room,  lacing  her  walking  boots,  —  '*  mamma, 
I  wish  I  had  another  terrible  fault." 

"  Why,  Maggie  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  I  do,  indeed,  mamma,  —  a  dreadful  fault, 
something  a  great  deal  worse  than  careless- 
ness." 

Mrs.  Bradford  was  busy  unpacking  trunks 
and  arranging  drawers  and  closets ;  for  the 
family  had  just  come  home  from  the  sea-shore, 
where  they  had  been  spending  the  summer; 


lO  Bessie  in  the  City, 

but  she  was  so  surprised  to  hear  Maggie  say 
this  that  she  turned  around  with  her  hands 
full,  to  look  at  her  little  daughter.  She  saw 
that  Maggie  was  very  much  in  earnest,  and 
had  some  reason  for  this  strange  wish. 

"  And  why  do  you  wish  that,  daughter  ?  " 
she  asked. 

''  Because,  mamma,  if  I  had  such  a  fault, 
people  would  be  so  very  anxious  I  should  cure 
it.  Oh,  dear !  there's  another  knot  in  my 
shoe-string !  "  and  Maggie  gave  a  jerk  and 
a  hard  pull  at  her  boot-lace.  ''  I  do  not  at 
all  wish  to  keep  it,  only  to  break  myself  of 
it." 

''  But  why  should  you  wish  for  a  fault 
which  would  grieve  your  friends  and  trouble 
yourself  only  that  you  may  be  at  the  pains  of 
curing  it,  Maggie?  You  have  faults  enough, 
dear ;  and  if  they  are  not  what  may  be  called 
very  terrible,  they  are  quite  serious  enough  to 


Little  Friends  at  Hofue,  ii 

need  all  your  attention,  and  you  should  be 
thankful  that  it  does  not  require  a  harder 
struggle  to  overcome  them." 

"  I  know  that,  mamma,"  answered  Maggie, 
with  a  very  grave  face ;  "  but  then  you  see  if 
my  friends  wished  me  very  much  to  cure  my 
fault,  perhaps  they  would  offer  me  money  to 
do  it.  You  know  when  I  used  to  be  so  very, 
very  careless.  Grandpapa  Duncan  paid  me  for 
trying  to  do  better,  so  that  I  might  help  earn 
the  easy-chair  for  lame  Jemmy  Bent.  And  I 
want  money  very  much,  —  a  great  deal  of  it, 
mamma." 

"  But  that  would  be  a  very  poor  reason  for 
wishing  to  rid  yourself  of  a  bad  fault,  my 
cliild.  And  why  do  you  want  so  much  money  ? 
It  seems  to  me  that  you  have  everything 
given  to  you  which  a  reasonable  little  girl 
can  want;  and  besides  you  have  your  weekly 
allowance  of  six  cents." 


12  Bessie  in  the  City, 

"  Yes,  ma'am,''  said  Maggie,  with  another 
jerk  at  her  boot-lace  ;  "  but  Bessie  and  I  want 
to  save  all  our  allowance  for  Christmas.  "We 
want  to  have  two  whole  dollars,  so  that  we 
can  give  presents  to  every  one  of  the  family 
and  all  the  servants  and  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Rush.  And  we  have  told  every  one  that  we 
are  going  to  do  it,  so  it  would  not  be  quite 
fair  to  take  the  money  for  anything  else ; 
would  it,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  have  promised  to  spend  it  in 
that  way,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  with  a  smile  at 
the  thought  of  how  much  the  two  dollars  were 
expected  to  furnish  ;  "  but  it  is  wiser  not  to 
make  such  large  promises.  You  should  have 
been  very  sure  that  you  wished  to  spend  youi 
money  for  presents  before  you  said  you  would 
do  so." 

"  But  I  do  wish  to  use  it  for  that,  mamma, 
and  so  does  Bessie,  but  we  have  another  plan 


Little  Friends  at  Home^  13 

in  our  minds.  Bessie  and  I  like  to  have 
plans,  and  this  is  a  charity  plan,  mamma,  and 
will  take  a  great  deal  of  money.  There,  now, 
there's  that  boot-lace  broken!  I  just  believe 
that  shoemaker  sells  bad  laces  on  purpose  to 
provoke  little  girls.  Something  ought  to  be 
done  to  him.  It's  such  a  bother  to  lace  my 
boots,  and  'most  always  just  when  I  have  one 
done,  the  lace  breaks.     It's  too  bad  !  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  too  bad,  Maggie,  quite  too  bad 
that  you  should  destroy  so  many  laces  ;  but  I 
scarcely  think  Mr.  White  does  his  work  poorly 
on  purpose  to  vex  his  little  customers.  It  is 
your  own  impatience  and  heedlessness,  my 
daughter,  which  are  to  blame.  You  pull  and 
drag  at  your  shoe-strings,  not  taking  time  to 
fasten  them  properly,  and  of  course  they  knot 
and  break.  That  is  the  second  one  this  week, 
and  last  week,  also,  you  destroyed  two.  You 
say  you  wish  to  learn  to  dress  yourself,  that 


14  Bessie  in  the  City, 

you  may  be  a  useful  and  helpful  little  girl ; 
but  you  make  more  trouble  than  you  save 
when  you  tear  the  buttons  and  strings  from 
your  clothes,  or  knot  and  fray  your  shoe- 
laces. It  would  have  been  mnch  more  con- 
venient for  me  to  put  on  your  boots  for  you 
than  it  is  to  leave  what  I  am  doing  to  find  a 
lace  among  all  these  trunks  and  boxes.  Do 
you  sec,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  looking  very 
much  mortified,  "  but  do  you  not  tliink  my 
carelessness  is  any  better  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  do,  pussy.  I  do  not  wish  to 
take  from  my  little  girl  any  of  the  credit  she 
deserves,  and  you  need  not  look  so  distressed. 
You  are  much  more  careful  tlian  you  were 
six  months  ago ;  you  have  tried  hard,  and  im- 
proved very  much ;  but  you  have  still  some- 
thing- to  do  in  that  way,  dear.  I  think  you 
will    find   the   old   faults   quite    troublesome 


Little  Friends  at  Home,  15 

enough    without    wishing    for   new    ones    to 
cure." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Maggie,  "  but  then  —  '* 
"  Well,  dear,  but  then  —  what  ?  " 
"  Why,  mamma,  I  wouldn't  feel  as  if  it  was 
quite  right  to  wish  to  be  paid  twice  over  for 
curing  myself  of -the  same  fault,  and  Grand- 
papa Duncan  might  think  it  was  not  fair." 

"  You  are  right,  Maggie,"  said  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford, "  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that ; 
but  I  should  like  to  understand  why  you  and 
Bessie  wish  for  a  great  deal  of  money.  If  it 
is  for  a  good  purpose,  I  think  I  can  put  you  in 
the  way  of  earning  some." 

"  Oh,  would  youf  mamma  ?  That  would 
be  so  nice  !  Bessie,"  —  as  her  little  sister  came 
into  the  room,  dressed  for  her  walk,  and  fol- 
lowed by  Jane  with  Maggie's  hat  and  sack 
in  her  hand,  —  "  Bessie,  mamma  thinks  she 
can  let  us  earn  some  money." 


j6  Bessie  in  the  City. 

"  Thank  you,  mamma,"  said  Bessie  ;  **  that 
is  delighterful.     I  am  so  glad." 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  it  is  for,  mamma," 
said  Maggie. 

"  Not  now,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford ;  "  it  is 
time  for  your  walk,  and  you  must  let  Jane 
put  on  your  things.  When  you  come  home, 
you  shall  tell  me,  and  meanwhile,  I  will  be 
thinking  in  what  way  I  can  help  you.  But 
remember,  I  only  promise  to  do  so  if  I  think 
well  of  your  plan.  You  may  think  it  a 
very  wise  one,  while  I  may  think  it  very  fool- 
ish." 

"Oh,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "I  am  quite 
sure  you  will  think  this  is  wise.  Mrs.  Rush 
made  it,  and  she  is  so  very  good  that  it  must 
be  quite  right." 

"  Yes,  I  think  any  plan  Mrs.  Rush  proposes 
for  you  will  be  a  safe  one,"  said  Mrs.  Brad 
ford,  with  a  smile. 


Little  J^riends  at  Ho7ne,  17 

"  You  mean  you  have  trust  in  her,  mam- 
ma ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Yes,  dear.  I  can  trust  her.  She  is  a 
true  and  faithful  friend  to  me  and  to  my  littlo 
ones,"  answered  Mrs.  Bradford,  as  she  stooped 
and  kissed  first  one  and  then  the  other  of  lier 
little  girls.  •'  And  now  good-by,  my  darlings. 
I  will  hear  all  when  you  come  back.  I  hope 
you  will  have  a  pleasant  walk." 

"  I  shall  not,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  with  a 
solemn  shake  of  her  curly  head.  "  I  am  so 
very  anxious  to  tell  you,  and  to  hear  what  we 
can  do,  that  I  shall  not  enjoy  my  walk  at  all. 
I  wish  I  could  stay  at  home." 

But  Maggie  found  herself  mistaken ;  for 
the  day  was  so  bright  and  pleasant,  the  park 
so  cool,  green,  and  shady,  and  so  full,  of  other 
little  children,  that  she  not  only  enjoyed  her 
walk  very  much,  bat  for  the  time  quite  for- 
got her  plan  and  her  wish  to  earn  money. 
2 


jS  Bessie  in  the   Ltty, 

And  in  the  park,  our  little  girls  met  a  friend 
whom  they  were  very  glad  to  see.  They  were 
running  down  one  of  the  broad  paths,  when 
Bessie  saw  an  old  gentleman  coming  towards 
them  with  a  pleasant  smile  on  his  face.  She 
stood  still  to  take  a  second  look,  and  then 
called  to  her  sister. 

"  Oh,  Maggie,  here's  our  dear  friend,  Mr. 
Hall ! " 

"  Why,  so  it  is ! "  said  Maggie,  in  glad 
surprise,  for  this  was  a  very  unexpected 
pleasure. 

Mr.  Hall  lived  but  two  or  three  doors  from 
Mr.  Bradford,  and  as  he  generally  came  for  a 
walk  in  the  park  after  his  breakfast,  Maggie 
and  Bessie  were  almost  sure  to  meet  him 
when  they  were  out  in  the  morning.  But 
he  was  not  apt  to  be  there  in  the  afternoon, 
and  so  they  had  not  looked  for  him  at  this 
time. 


Little  Fi'iefids  at  Home,  19 

It  so  happened  that  Mr.  Hall  had  stepped 
out  upon  his  front  stoop  just  as  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford's little  flock  started  for  their  walk ;  and 
there  he  saw  them  all  going  down  the  street. 
He  put  on  his  hat,  took  his  gold-headed  cane, 
and  walked  out  after  them. 

"  Mr.  Hall,  I  am  very  pleased  to  see  you," 
said  Bessie. 

"  And  so  am  I,  Mr.  Hall,"  said  Maggie. 

"  And  I  am  very  much  pleased  to  see  you," 
said  Mr.  Hall ;  "  but  I  should  like  to  know 
what  has  become  of  two  little  granddaughters 
of  mine,  who  went  away  to  the  sea-shore  two 
months  since.  I  thought  I  should  find  them 
in  the  park  ;  but  in  their  place  I  find  two  little 
strangers,  who  have  no  name  for  me  but  Mr. 
Hall." 

''Oh,  I  forgot,  —  Grandpapa  Hall,"  said 
^[aggie. 

*'Dear  Grandpapa  Hall,"  said  Bessie, "  please 


20  Besste  in  the  City. 

don't  let  your  feelings  be  hurt,  'cause  we  only 
forgot  for  one  moment.  You  know  it's  so  long 
since  we  saw  you." 

"  And  did  yon  forget  me  while  you  were 
away  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hall. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Bessie,  ''  we  thinked  about 
you  very  often,  and  talked  about  you  too." 

"  Well,  let  us  sit  down  and  talk  a  little," 
said  Mr.  Hall,  as  he  seated  himself  on  a 
bench,  and  made  Maggie  and  Bessie  take 
their  places,  one  on  each  side  of  him.  "  And 
so  you  came  back  from  Quam  Beach  yester- 
day ? "  he  said. 

*'Yes,  sir,"  said  Bessie,  —  "yesterday,  in 
the  afternoon.     How  did  you  know  it  ?  " 

••  Oh,  I  saw  the  carriages  drive  up,  and 
papa  and  mamma  and  a  whole  regiment  of  lit- 
tle folks  pouring  out  of  them.  I  came  out 
this  morning,  expecting  to  find  you  in  the 
park,  but  you  were  nowhere  to  be  seen." 


Little  Friends  at  Home,  21 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  mamma  was  so  busy 
nurse  and  Jane  had  to  help  her,  so  we  could 
not  take  our  walk." 

"Ah,  to  be  sure,  I  might  have  thought  of 
that,  and  called  for  you  myself." 

"  But  we  helped  mamma  too,  and  she  said 
we  were  of  great  use  to  her,  so  we  could  not 
have  gone  out,"  said  Maggie. 

"  That  was  right,"  said  Mr.  Hall.  "  Always 
be  of  use  to  dear  mamma  whenyou  can." 

"  We  can't  do  much,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  we  are 
too  little." 

"  I  do  not  know  about  that,"  answered  Mr. 
Hall.  "  These  little  hands  and  feet  can  lielp 
mamma  a  good  deal,  if  they  are  only  willing. 
If  you  can  do  nothing  else,  you  can  be  quiet 
and  patient  when  she  is  busy.  If  you  do  not 
make  trouble,  you  save  trouble." 

"  And  we  can  'muse  baby,"  said  Bessie. 

"  So  you  can.     Halloa,  little  man !     How 


22  Bessie  in  the  City. 

do  you  do  ?  "  This  was  said  to  Franky,  who 
had  just  come  up  with  Jane. 

Franky  remembered  Mr.  Hall  quite  well, 
and  he  also  remembered  how  the  old  gentle- 
man used  to  give  him  sugar-plums  out  of  his 
pocket. 

"  Welly  well,"  he  answered.  "  Me  want 
sudar-plum." 

'^  Oh,  you  naughty  boy  !  "  said  Maggie. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  Mr.  Hall.  "  I  quite 
forgot  the  sugar-plums  this  afternoon.  When 
I  saw  my  little  friends  going  up  the  street,  I 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  pleasure  of  joining 
them,  and  hurried  out  as  quickly  as  I  could." 

"  Dive  Franky  sudar-plums,"  said  the  child 
again. 

"Oh,  Franky!"  said  Bessie,  "don't  be  so 
yude.  You  make  us  very  mortified.  Please 
to  'sense  him,  Mr.  Hall ;  he  don't  know  any 
better,  'cause  he's  only  three  years  old," 


Little  Friends  at  Home,  23 

Mr.  Hall  laughed  and  offered  Franky  his 
stick  to  ride  011,  but  the  little  boy  would  not 
take  it ;  and  when  he  found  he  could  not 
have  the  sugar-plums,  walked  away  with  an 
offended  air,  which  amused  the  old  gentleman 
very  much,  though  it  distressed  his  sisters, 
who  thought  him  very  impolite. 

"  And  now  tell  me  about  Quam  Beach," 
said  Mr.  Hall.  "  You  liked  it  very  much,  did 
you  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Bessie,  "  the  sea  is  there." 
*'  And  you  were  fond  of  the  sea  ?  " 
"  Oh,  yes,  sir  !  it  is  beautiful,  and  it  has 
waves,  and  they  come  up  on  the  beach  and 
bring  the  sea-weed  and  shells,  and  make  such 
a  pleasant  sound.  And  we  could  see  so  far, 
far  away  out  over  the  water,  and  we  saw  the 
ships  and  steamers  too.  And  there  are  yocks 
that  we  could  sit  on  and  play  on,  and  we 
liked  it  so  much.     I  wish   there   was   a   sea 


24  Bessie  in  the  City, 

here,  Grandpapa  Hall.  Did  you  ever  go  to 
the  sca-sliore  ? " 

"  Yes,  often,  and  I  have  been  to  Quam 
Beach,  and  thought  it  quite  as  pleasant  as 
you  seem  to  have  found  it." 

"  We  used  to  have  clap-bakes,"  said  Mag- 
gie. 

"  And  go  out  in  the  boat,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  in  the  wagon  for  straw  rides,  and  to 
swing  in  the  barn,"  said  Maggie. 

"  And  over  to  the  hotel  to  see  grand- 
mamma, and  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Yush,"  said 
Bessie. 

"  Who  are  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Hall. 

"  Old  friends  of  papa  and  mamma,  and  new 
friends  of  me  and  Maggie,"  answered  Bessie ; 
"  and  we  love  them  —  oh,  so  much  !  " 

"  Colonel  Rush  is  an  English  soldier,"  said 
Maggie,  "  and  he  was  shot  in  a  battle,  so  his 


Little  Priends  at  Home,  25 

foot  had  to  be  cut  off,  and  he  has  been  very 
sick,  but  he's  better  now." 

"  And  they  came  to  the  city  with  us  yester- 
day," said  Bessie,  "  and  went  to  the  hotel ; 
and  Mrs.  Yush  is  going  to  have  a  class  on 
Sunday,  and  we  are  to  go  to  it." 

*'Are  you  going  to  leave  your  Sunday- 
school  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hall. 

"  I  never  went  to  Sunday-school,"  said 
Bessie.  ''  Maggie  did,  but  mamma  thought  I 
was  too  little  ;  but  she  said  I  might  go  to  Mrs. 
Yush,  'cause  it  was  not  too  far.  Mrs.  Yush 
can't  go  to  Sunday-school,  'cause  she  must 
yide  to  church  with  the  colonel,  and  she  can- 
not come  back  for  him  in  time.  Maggie's 
teacher  is  going  away,  and  she  is  to  go  to 
Mrs.  Yush  too,  and  Lily  Norris  and  Gracie 
Howard." 

"  We  are  all  to  go  to  her  on  Sunday  morn- 
ings," said  Maggie ;  "and  when  she  and  the 


20  Bessie  in  the   City, 

colonel  go  to  church,  they  are  to  take  Bessie, 
if  it  is  too  cold  for  her  to  walk ;  so  now  she 
can  go  to  church  'most  every  Sunday.  Last 
winter  she  went  very  seldom  because  mamma 
thought  the  walk  too  long  for  her,  and  was 
afraid  she  would  take  cold.  Don't  you  think 
it  is  a  very  nice  'rangement,  Grandpapa 
Hall  ?  " 

u  Very,"  said  Mr.  Hall,  smiling  at  Maggie's 
long  word,  —  "a  very  nice  arrangement ;  and 
I  think  Mrs.  Rush  must  be  a  very  kind,  good 
lady." 

"  She  is,"  answered  Maggie,  "  she's  lovely." 

"  Grandpapa  Duncan  says  she  is  as  good  as 
she  is  pretty,  and  as  pretty  as  she  is  good,'* 
said  Bessie. 

"  And  the  colonel  is  very  good  too,"  said 
Maggie,  "  and  they  are  both  very  fond  of  us." 

"  That  shows  them  to  be  sensible  people," 
said  Mr.  Hall.     ''  I  think  I  must  make  the 


Little  Friends  at  Home,  27 

acquaintance  of  this  famous  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Rush.     Will  jou  introduce  me  to  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  will,"  answered  Bessie,  "  and 
perhaps  you'll  see  the  colonel  in  the  park 
some  day.  He  says  he  shall  come  and  walk 
here  when  he  feels  well  enough.  He's  going 
to  live  over  there  in  the  hotel ; "  and  Bessie 
pointed  to  the  great  white  building  that 
fronted  the  park. 

"  And  how  is  Grandpapa  Duncan  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Hall. 

"  Very  well,  and  Uncle  John  and  Aunt 
Helen  are  well  too,  and  Nellie  is  better,  and 
has  ever  so  many  new  teeth.  Quam  Beach 
did  her  a  great  deal  of  good.  Papa  and 
mamma  are  goings  to  Riverside  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  and  Maggie  and  I  are  going  with 
them." 

"  I  think  I  know  some  one  beside  Nellie  to 
whom  Quam  Beach  has  done  good,"  said  Mr. 


28  Bessie  in  the  City, 

Hall.  *'  There  is  some  color  in  these  little 
cheeks  which  were  so  pale  when  you  went 
away,  and  you  are  stronger  and  more  able  to 
run  about ;  while  as  for  Maggie,  she  has  be- 
come quite  a  roly-poly." 

"  Mr.  Hall,"  said  Bessie,  "  do  you  know 
what  we  are  going  to  bring  from  River- 
side ?  " 

"  No,  how  should  I,  when  no  one  has  told 
me?" 

*'  Our  little  dog  that  Donald,  the  gardener, 
gave  us,"  said  Bessie.  "  His  name  is  Flossy, 
and  he's  old  enough  to  leave  his  mother  now  ; 
so  we  are  to  have  him  at  home." 

"  Oh,  I  remember  you  told  me  about  him 
in  the  spring.     So  his  name  is  Flossy  ;  is  it  ?  " 

''  Yes,  sir,  and  he's  Maggie's  and  mine.  Do 
you  think  he  will  be  lonely  without  his  puppy 
brothers  ?  " 

''  Not  with   two  such  nice  little  playmates 


Little  Friends  at  Home,  29 

as  you  and  Maggie,"  said  Mr.  Hall,  "  You 
must  bring  him  out  every  day  and  let  him 
have  a  run  in  the  park." 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  papa  is  going  to  buy  him  a 
collar  with  his  name  on  it  and  where  he  lives, 
so  people  will  know  he  is  ours  if  he  yuns 
away." 

"  Yery  good,"  said  Mr.  Hall,  "  and  now 
suppose  we  walk  around  a  little,  or  nurse 
will  think  I  am  keeping  you  quiet  too  long." 


II 


MAGGIE'S  PLAN. 


AGGIE  thought  of  her  "  plan  "  again 
as  soon  as  she  reached  home,  and 
she  and  Bessie  scampered  away  to  their  mam- 
ma's room  to  see  if  she  were  ready  to  attend 
to  them.  She  was  dressing  for  dinner,  and 
so  they  knew  they  might  go  in  and  talk  to 
her,  for  she  said  this  was  "Maggie's  and  Bes- 
sie's hour,"  and  as  she  dressed,  used  to  tell 
them  stories,  or  teach  them  some  pretty  verses, 
or  listen  to  them  if  they  had  anything  to  tell 
her. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  have  you  thouVht 
of  any  way  that  I  can  earn  money  ?  " 

"  You  must  tell  me  what  it  is  wanted  for, 
Maggie." 


Maggie's  Plan.  31 

**  We  want  to  buy  a  library,  mamma." 

"  What  library,  dear  ?  " 

*'  A  mission  library,  mamma.  You  know 
my  Sunday-school  teacher,  Miss  Win  slow,  is 
going  to  marry  a  missionary  ;  but  he  is  not  a 
heathen  missionary." 

*'  I  hope  not,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  smiling. 
*'  You  mean,  T  suppose,  that  he  is  not  going  to 
India  to  teach  the  heathen,  but  is  what  is 
called  a  home  missionary." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  that  is  it.  Mrs.  Rush  says 
that  he  is  going  far  out  West,  wh-ere  the  peo- 
ple have  very  few  churches  or  Sunday-scliools 
and  scarcely  any  books,  and  they  are  very 
ignorant,  and  don't  know  much  about  God  or 
how  Jesus  came  to  die  for  them,  and  I  am 
afraid  Miss  Winslow  wont  be  very  comforta- 
ble out  there,  mamma,  'cause  they  don't  havo 
nice  houses  like  ours,  but  just  rough  ones 
made   of   logs,   which   they   call  log   cabins. 


32  Bessie  in  the   City. 

You  know  Miss  Winslow  is  a  lady,  and  I  am 
afraid  she  wont  like  to  live  in  a  place  like 
that." 

*'  Miss  Winslow  has  thought  of  all  that,  my 
darling ;  but  she  is  willing  to  put  up  with 
these  hardships  for  the  sake  of  carrying  the 
glad  message  of  salvation  to  those  poor  peo- 
ple." 

"Yes,  mamma,  and  Mrs.  Rush  says  that 
most  of  them  are  very  glad  to  hear  it,  and  so 
glad  to  have  the  books  the  missionaries  bring, 
and  Mr.  Long,  the  gentleman  Miss  Winslow 
is  to  marry,  is  going  to  try  and  have  some 
Sunday-schools  for  the  children  who  live  in  log 
cabins  ;  and  the  other  day,  when  Mrs.  Rush 
was  talking  to  us  about  having  the  little  class 
in  her  room  on  Sunday,  she  asked  us  if  we 
would  not  like  to  buy  a  Sunday-school  library 
to  send  to  those  poor  little  children,  when  Miss 
Winslow   and  her  missionary  go  out  there. 


Maggie's  Plan.  33 

You  can  buy  a  nice  little  library  for  ton  dol- 
lars, mamma;  just  think,  ten  dollars!  " 

*'  Yes,  I  know,  Maggie  ;  but  ten  dollars  is  a 
great  deal  of  money  for  two  sucli  little  girls 
is  yon  and  Bessie  to  raise  in  less  than  four 
aionths.  Miss  Winslow  is  to  leave  soon  after 
the  first  of  January,  and  this  is  now  the  tenth 
of  September." 

*'  But  Bessie  and  I  are  not  to  do  it  by  our- 
selves, mamma.  Gracie  Howard  and  Lily 
Norris  are  to  help ;  it  is  to  come  from  the 
class,  and  Mrs.  Rush  says  if  we  cannot  do  it 
alone,  she  will  help  us  ;  but  she  tliinks  the 
little  log-cabin  children  will  like  it  better  if 
they  hear  it  was  all  sent  by  other  little  chil- 
dren here,  and  we  would  like  it  better  our- 
selves." 

"  And  Gracie  and  Lily  are  going  to  try  and 
earn  money  too?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Tiiey  have  their  share,  mamma.     Gracie's 


34  Bessie  m  the   City, 

grandmamma,  who  lives  in  England,  always 
sends  her  some  money  on  her  birthday,  —  a  — 
a  —  I  forget  what  she  calls  it,  but  she  says  it 
is  as  much  as  five  dollars." 

"  A  pound?  "  said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"Yes'm,  that  is  it.  Gracie  says  she  will 
give  half  of  the  money  her  grandmamma 
sent  the  other  day,  and  Lily  has  a  hundred 
dollars  in  her  father's  bank,  and  he  pays  her 
money  'cause  she  has  it  there." 

"  That  is  called  paying  interest,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford. 

"  And  she  has  some  of  that  saved  up,"  said 
Maggie,  "  and  she  will  have  more  before 
Christmas ;  so  her  share  will  be  ready  too ; 
but  Bessie  and  I  have  no  money  except  our  six 
cents  a  week,  and  that,  you  know,  we  prom- 
ised to  spend  another  way.  And  we  don't 
want  to  be  helped,  mamma,  but  to  try  and 
earn  the  money  by  ourselves,  if  we  only  knew 


Maggie's  Plan.  35 

how.  Do  you  not  think  it  is  a  very  nice 
plan,  and  that  the  log-cabin  children  will  be 
very  glad  when  they  see  the  books  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  a  very  good  plan,  dear,  and  I 
will  try  to  help  you.  You  know,  Maggie, 
we  were  saying  this  morning  that  you  were 
still  not  quite  as  careful  as  you  might  be. 
Now  I  do  not  much  like  to  pay  you  for  try- 
ing to  break  yourself  of  a  bad  habit,  but  as 
this  is  for  a  good  purpose,  I  will  tell  you  what 
I  will  do.  Every  month  between  now  and 
January,  I  will  put  by  a  dollar  for  your 
gloves  and  boot-laces.  This  is  much  more 
than  enough  to  keep  you  well  supplied,  if  you 
take  proper  care  of  them,  but  if  you  keep  on 
losing  your  gloves,  breaking  your  boot-laces, 
and  so  forth,  as  you  do  now,  you  will  have 
none  left  for  any  other  purpose.  And  re- 
member, I  cannot  let  you  do  without  such 
little  things  as  you  may  need,  for  the  sake  of 


36  Bessie  in  the   City, 

the  library.  I  cannot  have  jou  going  without 
gloves,  or  with  such  as  are  torn  or  out  at  the 
fingers,  or  with  broken  or  knotted  shoe-strings. 
I  must  still  keep  you  neat,  and  shall  buy  for 
you  whatever  I  may  think  necessary.  But  if 
you  care  enough,  as  I  hope  you  do,  for  the 
little  Western  children  to  be  thoughtful  and 
saving,  yovi  may  still  keep  as  much  of  this 
money  as  will  go  a  good  way  toward  your 
share  of  the  ten  dollars." 

"  And  am  I  to  have  money  put  by  for  me, 
too,  mamma  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Yes,  dear,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  do  the 
same  for  you." 

Maggie  did  not  look  as  pleased  as  her 
mother  had  thought  she  would. 

"  What  is  it,  Maggie  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Does 
not  this  please  you  ?  Are  you  not  willing  to 
try  both  to  help  those  little  children,  and  to 
cure  your  own  fault  at  the  same  time  ? " 


Maggie's  Plan.  37 

"Oil,  yes'm,  I  am  willing,  and  I  think  you 
are  very  kind.  But  Bessie  will  keep  a  great 
deal  more  money  than  I  shall.  You  know 
you  said  the  other  day  that  I  had  three  pairs 
of  gloves  where  Bessie  had  one." 

*' Never  mind,  Maggie,"  said  Bessie,  "I 
think  I'll  lose  a  few  gloves." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  laughing  and 
shaking  her  head,  —  "no,  no,  that  will  not 
do.  1  cannot  have  one  little  sister  trying  to 
destroy  or  lose  her  things  in  order  that  she 
may  he  no  better  off  than  the  other.  And 
I  am  quite  sure  my  Maggie  would  not  be  en- 
vious if  Bessie  saved  more  than  she  did." 

*'  But  I  may  say  I  will  not  give  more  money 
than  Maggie  does  for  the  library ;  may  I  not, 
mamma?  You  know  it  is  more  hers  than 
mine,  'cause  she  was  Miss  Winslow's  scholar." 

"  You  may  do  just  as  you  please  about 
that,  dear.     Each  one  may  give  as  much  or 


38  Bessie  in  the  City, 

as  little  as  she  likes,  if  it  is  fairly  earned 
or  saved.  And  I  can  put  Maggie  in  the  way 
of  earning  money  bj  work  if  she  wishes  for 
it." 

"  How,  mamma  ?  "  asked  Maggie,  eagerly. 

*'  I  have  several  dozens  of  towels  to  be 
hemmed,  and  I  intended  that  Jane  should  do 
them  all ;  but  I  will  keep  out  one  dozen  for 
you,  and  will  pay  you  five  cents  apiece.  And 
they  must  be  don^,  not  at  your  regular  sew- 
ing lesson,  but  at  other  times." 

Now  if  there  was  one  thing  more  than  an- 
other which  Maggie  disliked,  it  was  sewing. 
She  always  called  the  half-hour  during  which 
her  mother  taught  her  to  sew  "  the  worst 
time  of  the  day."  It  was  strange,  too,  for  she 
had  quick  and  skilful  fingers,  and  sewed  re- 
markably Tffell  for  a  little  girl  of  seven,  and 
people  generally  like  to  do  that  which  they  do 
well.     But  it  was  not  so  with  Maggie,  and  her 


Maggie^ s  Plan.  39 

face  grew  very  sober  wlien  her  motlier  said  she 
might  hem  her  towels. 

*'  But,  mamma,"  she  said. 

"Well,  dear?" 

"  Mamma,  you  know  I  cannot  bear  to  sew. 
I  do  so  hate  it !  And  a  dozen  towels,  —  that 
means  twelve,  don't  it  ?  —  why,  1  should  never, 
never  have  them  done." 

"  It  shall  be  just  as  you  choose,  dear.  I  do 
not  say  you  must  do  them,  only  that  you  may. 
But,  Maggie,  we  can  seldom  do  much  good  to 
others  without  taking  some  trouble  or  using 
some  self-denial  ourselves." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  self-denial  is,  mam- 
ma." 

"  Self-denial  is  to  give  up  something  we 
would  like  to  have,  or  perhaps  to  do  some- 
thing that  is  disagreeable  or  troublesome  to 
ourselves,  for  the  sake  of  another.  This 
morning  I  gave  you  two  plums,  —  one  for  your- 


40  Bessie  in  the  City, 

self,  one  for  Bessie.  One  was  much  larger 
than  tlie  other,  and  I  saw  that  you  gave  it  to 
Bessie,  keeping  the  smaller  one  for  yourself. 
That  was  self-denial." 

"  But,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  *'  that  was 
not  anything  much.  I  could  not  do  such  a 
greedy  thing  as  to  give  my  own  Bessie  the 
little  plum  and  cat  the  big  one  myself.  I 
would  be  too  ashamed." 

'♦  I  am  glad  to  say  that  neither  of  my  lit- 
tle girls  is  greedy  or  selfish,"  said  mamma. 
"  Do  you  remember  the  day  at  Quam  Beach 
when  your  head  was  hurt,  and  Tom  Norris 
came  up  to  read  a  new  book  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes'm,  it  was  so  kind  of  him;  and  he 
read  'most  all  the  afternoon." 

"When  he  was  on  his  way  to  our  house, 
Mr.  Howard  met  him  and  asked  him  to  go  with 
him  to  see  the  wreck,  but  although  Tom  had 
been  wishing  very  much  to  go,  he  refused  be- 


Maggie's  Plan.  4 1 

cause  he  thought  you  would  like  him  to  come 
and  read  to  you.  That  was  self-denial.  Mr. 
Long  and  Miss  Winslow  do  not  like  to  leave 
all  their  friends  and  their  comfortable  homes 
to  go  out  West,  but  they  are  willing  to  do  it, 
that  they  may  teach  those  poor  people  who 
have  no  one  to  tell  them  of  Jesus.  That  is 
self-denial.  And  if  my  Maggie  were  to  take 
her  time  to  hem  towels  for  tlie  sake  of  the 
little  Western  children  who  have  no  books, 
that  would  be  self-deniaL  And  there  was 
one  great  self-denial,  greater  tlian  any  other 
the  world  can  ever  see.  Do  you  know  what 
that  was,  my  darling  ?  " 

"  When  Abraham  killed  —  I  mean  when  he 
was  going  to  kill  Isaac,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Well,  there  was  some  self-denial  in  that," 
said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  but  that  was  not  what  I 
meant.  It  was  Abraham's  great  faith  in  God 
which  made  him  willing  to  obey  his  word  and 


42  Bessie  in  the  City, 

sacrifice  his  only  son  ;  but  there  was  a  greater 
than  he,  Maggie,  who  offered  a  more  wonder- 
ful sacrifice." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie, "  do  you  mean  when 
Jesus  left  his  heaven  and  came  to  die  for 
us?" 

"  Yes,  dear ;  and  when  we  find  it  hard  to 
give  up  our  own  wishes  for  the  sake  of  others, 
let  us  remember  all  the  dear  Saviour  has  done 
for  us,  and  that  will  make  the  task  easier  and 
pleasanter.  And  the  Bible  says,  'Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'  That  means 
that  when  we  are  working  for  Jesus'  people, 
or  for  his  little  lambs,  we  are  working  for 
him." 

"  And  two  little  lambs  can  help  some  other 
little  lambs,"  said  Bessie,  as  if  this  thought 
pleased  her  very  much. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,    drawing   a  long 


Maggie's  jPlan.  43 

sigh,  "  I  think  I'll  have  a  self-denial  and 
hem  those  towels.  How  much  money  will 
twelve  towels  make  ?  " 

"  Twelve  towels  at  five  cents  apiece  will 
make  sixty  cents,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford;  ^' and 
perhaps  by  and  by  you  will  find  some  other 
way  to  gain  money." 

''  May  I  earn  money  any  way  I  can,  mam- 
ma ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  I  cannot  promise  that,"  said  mamma,  smil- 
ing. "  You  might  wish  to  earn  money  in  some 
way  I  might  not  think  proper,  even  for  a  good 
purpose." 

"  And  what  can  I  do,  mamma  ?  "  asked  Bes- 
sie. "  I  want  to  work  too,  and  I  don't  know 
how  to  sew." 

"  What  shall  we  find  for  those  little  hands 
to  do,  Maggie  ?  "  said  mamma,  catching  the 
two  tiny  hands  Bessie  held  up  and  patting 
them  softly  against  her  own  cheeks. 


44  Bessie  in  the   City. 

"  Work  for  those  little  hands  to  do  ?  "  said 
papa,  who  just  then  came  in  and  heard  the 
last  words.  *'  I  should  thinic  they  were  at  their 
proper  work  now,  —  petting  mamma.  Papa 
would  not  mind  coming  in  for  a  share  too." 

"  And  so  he  shall,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  pet- 
ting you  and  mamma  is  nice  play,  not  work  ; 
and  these  little  hands  want  to  be  useful, 
papa." 

''  I  think  they  do  pretty  well  for  five-year- 
old  hands,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  as  he  sat  down 
and  took  Bessie  on  his  knee.  "  They  bring 
papa's  slippers  and  rock  baby's  cradle,  and 
sometimes  I  see  them  trying  to  help  mamma 
when  she  is  busy.  I  think  we  may  call  them 
rather  useful  for  hands  of  their  size." 

"  But  they  want  to  make  money,  papa." 

"  Ho,  ho  1  that  is  it ;  is  it  ?  Well,  I  do  not 
know  that  they  can  do  much  at  that  business, 
or  that  they  could  hold  any  great  sum  if  they 


Maggie's  Plan,  45 

made  it.  Let  us  see  what  they  can  do  in  that 
way  ;  "  and  putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
Mr.  Bradford  pulled  out  a  uumber  of  bright 
new  pennies.     "  Put  out  both  hands." 

Bessie  put  her  hands  together  and  held 
them  out,  while  her  father  couuted  the  pen- 
nies into  them. 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven, 
eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve.  There,  I  think 
that  is  as  much  as  they  can  hold  at  once,"  said 
Mr.  Bradford.  "  Is  there  another  pair  of  lit- 
tle hands  that  would  like  to  try  if  they  can 
do  as  well  ?  " 

Maggie  was  standing  at  her  father's  knee 
with  a  very  eager  face,  for  she  knew  her  turn 
would  come  next. 

''  One,  two,  three,"  began  Mr.  Bradford, 
and  counted  out  fifteen  pennies  into  Maggie's 
hands.  "  And  now  what  is  to  be  done  with 
all  that  money  ?  "  lie  asked,  looking  from  ono 


46  Bessie  i)i   the   Ctty. 

to  another  of  the  bright  faces.  "  It  is  not  to 
bo  wasted,  I  suppose,  since  mamma  seems  to 
be  in  the  secret." 

"  We  want  to  buy  a  library,"  said  Bessie. 

"  A  library  ?  "  said  Mr.  Bradford.  ''  Well, 
I'll  promise  to  read  every  book  in  any  library 
you  may  buy  for  the  next  ten  years." 

"  But  it  is  not  a  big  library  with  stupid  books 
in,  like  yours,  papa,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  a  nice 
little  one  with  pretty  Sunday-school  books ; 
and  it  is  not  for  ourselves  we  want  it." 

Then  papa  was  told  about  Mr.  Long  and 
Miss  Winslow,  all  of  which  he  knew  before, 
though  he  listened  as  though  it  was  quite  new 
to  him,  and  of  the  plan  for  tlie  library,  which 
he  thought  a  very  good  one,  and  of  which  he 
had  as  yet  heard  nothing. 

"Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "will  you  take 
care  of  our  money  for  us?  I  know  I  shall  lose 
some  of  mine  if  I  keep  it  myself." 


Maggie  s  Plan.  47 

Mrs.  Bradford  opened  a  drawer,  and  took 
from  it  a  curious  little  box.  It  was  made  of 
blocks  of  red  and  black  wood,  and  had  no 
cover ;  but  if  a  certain  block  were  pressed,  out 
flew  a  drawer  which  moved  on  a  spring.  This 
box  had  been  Mrs.  Bradford's  when  she  was 
a  child,  and  Maggie  and  Bessie  thought  it  a 
great  curiosity. 

"  There,"  said  mamma,  "  put  the  pennies  in 
this,  —  fifteen  of  Maggie's  and  twelve  of  Bes- 
sie's make  twenty-seven.  Pretty  well  for  a  be- 
ginning. All  the  money  you  earn  may  go  in 
this." 

*'  And  the  glove  money  too,  mamma  ? " 
asked  Maggie. 

*'  No,  not  the  glove  money.  I  shall  keep 
that,  and  at  the  end  of  each  month  will  givo 
you  what  remains  to  put  in  the  box." 

"  And  you  will  keep  it,  mamma  ?  " 

"Yes,  there  it  is  in  the  corner  of  this 


48  Bessie  in  the   City. 

drawer.     You  may    come  and    take  it    when 
you  want  to  put  anything  in  it." 

"  Papa,"  said  Bessie  at  dessert  that  day, 
"  will  you  please  take  the  fretful  off  my  peach. 
I  can't  eat  it  so." 

Bessie  could  never  bear  to  eat  or  even 
touch  a  peach  unless  all  the  furze  or  down 
which  grew  upon  it  had  been  rubbed  off,  and 
the  restless,  uncomfortable  feeling  it  gave  her 
'nade  her  call  it  "  the  fretful." 

Mr.  Bradford  took  a  peach  from  his  little 
girl's  plate,  and  as  he  rubbed  it  smooth,  said 
to  his  wife,  "  Margaret,  my  dear,  peaches  are 
very  plenty  and  very  fine,  and  I,  you  know, 
am  very  fond  of  peach  preserves." 

'« Yery  well,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  I  will 
put  up  as  many  as  you  choose  to  send  home." 

Bessie  heard,  and  a  new  thought  came  into 
her  little  head. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said  a  while  after,  when  she 


Maggie's  Plan,  49 

cculd  speak  to  her  mother  alone,  — '''  mamma, 
you  told  papa  you  would  make  a  great  many 
peach  preserves  for  him." 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  And,  mamma,  you  know  he  likes  the  in- 
side of  peach-stones  in  the  preserves." 

"  The  kernel,  you  mean." 

"  Yes'm,  and  last  summer  Harry  kept  all 
the  peach-stones  and  cracked  them  for  you, 
and  you  paid  him  for  them.  Could  you  let 
me  do  it  this  time  ?  " 

"  My  darling,  you  would  crack  those  little 
fingers  ;  it  is  too  hard  work  for  you." 

Bessie  looked  very  much  disappointed,  and 
her  mother  could  not  hear  to  see  it,  for  she 
knew  how  anxious  she  was  to  earn  money  for 
the  librjiry. 

"  You  may  gather  up  the  peach-stones,  dear, 
and  dry  them,  and  Patrick  shall  crack  them 
4 


^O  Bessie  in  the   City, 

for  you,  and  I  will  pay  you  five  cents  for  every 
hundred." 

"  Oh  !  tliank  you,  mamma  ;  that  is  very  nice, 
and  I  will  put  away  every  one  I  can  find." 

And  from  this  day  it  was  quite  amusing  to 
their  papa  and  mamma  to  see  how  carefully 
Maggie  and  Bessie  guarded  every  peach-stone 
they  could  find ;  and  to  hear  them  constantly 
talking  over  plans  to  gain  a  few  pennies  to  add 
to  their  store. 

"  Margaret,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  to  his  wife 
that  evening,  "  would  it  not  be  better  for 
you  to  lock  up  that  money-box  of  the  chil- 
dren ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford.  "  They 
will  want  it  half  a  dozen  times  a  day.  You 
know  how  such  little  things  are,  and  they  will 
always  be  counting  their  money.  I  believe 
every  one  we  have  in  the  house  is  quite 
honest,  and  the  box  cannot  well  be  opened 


Maggie's   Plan,  5 1 

by  one  who  does  not  know  the  secret  of  the 
spring." 

So  tl\e  box  was  not  locked  up  ;  but  the  time 
came  when  Mrs.  Bradford  was  very  sorry  she 
had  not  taken  her  husband's  advice. 


Ill 


THE  MISER, 


RED,"  said  Harry,  as  the  little  sisters 
came  into  the  breakfast-room  the  next 
morning,  —  ''Fred,  what  have  you  done  with 
my  new  top  ?  " 

"  I  declare,"  said  Fred,  after  thinking  a  mo- 
ment, ''  I  do  not  know." 

"  That's  what  a  fellow  gets  for  lending  you 
his  things,"  saivi  Harry,  crosslj ;  "  you  never 
give  them  back,  and  never  know  where  you 
leave  them.  I  sha'n't  let  you  have  anything  of 
mine  again  in  a  hurry." 

"  I  know  where  it  is,  Harry,"  said  Maggie. 
"  I'll  bring  it  to  you.     I  saw  it  last  night." 

And  away  ran  Maggie,  always  ready  and 
willing  to  oblige ;  but  as  she  reached  the  door, 


The  Miser,  53 

she  stood  still  with  the  knob  in  her  hand. 
"  Harry,  if  I  go  for  it,  will  you  give  me  a 
penny  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Harry,  "  no,  I  will  not." 

*'  If  you  don't  choose  to  go  for  it,  tell  me 
where  it  is,  and  I  will  go  myself,"  said  Fred. 

But  Maggie  went  without  another  word,  and 
came  back  with  the  top  in  her  hand. 

"  There's  your  penny,"  said  Harry,  throw- 
ing one  on  the  table. 

"  That's  as  mean  a  thing  as  ever  I  knew," 
said  Fred,  "  to  want  to  be  paid  for  going  up- 
stairs for  a  fellow  who  has  a  sprained  leg  and 
can't  go  for  himself.  You  know  mamma  said 
he  must  not  go  up  and  down  much  till  his  an- 
kle was  well." 

"  I'd  have  thought  anybody  would  have 
done  such  a  thing  sooner  than  you,  Maggie,'* 
said  Harry,  reproachfully. 

Maggie  stood  with  crimson    cheeks  and    a 


54  Bessie  in  the   City, 

shaking  lip.  "  I  sha'n't  have  the  penny !  "  she 
said,  angrily.  But  just  then  papa  and  mamma 
came  in  and  the  bell  was  rung  for  morning 
prayers,  which  prevented  any  farther  quarrel- 
ling. 

But  Maggie's  troubles  were  not  yet  at  an  end 
for  that  morning.  Breakfast  was  over,  mam- 
ma gone  to  the  nursery,  papa  to  his  library, 
and  the  children  were  alone  in  the  breakfast- 
room. 

*'  Midget,"  said  Harry,  "  you  know  that 
pink  fluted  shell  of  yours  ?  " 

^*  Yes,"  answered  Maggie. 

*'  If  you'll  give  it  to  me,  I'll  give  you  any 
two  of  mine  you  may  choose." 

"  Oh,  Harry,  I  can't !  Aunt  Annie  gave 
me  that  shell,  and  I  want  to  keep  it  for 
memory  of  her.  Besides,  it's  my  prettiest 
shell." 

"  Aunt   Annie   isn't    dead,"     said    Harry. 


The  Miser.  55 

"  You  don't  keep  a  thing  in  memory  of  a  per- 
son unless  they're  dead." 

*'  She'll  die  one  of  these  days,"  said  Maggie  ; 
*'  every  one  has  to  die  sometime,  and  I'll  keep 
it  till  then.  But  I  meant  I  wanted  it  because 
she  gave  it  to  me,  Harry,  and  I  can't  let  you 
liave  it."  But  presently,  having  forgotten 
about  the  penny,  and  thinking  of  the  library 
box,  Maggie  added,  "  I'll  give  it  to  you  for  ten 
cents,  Harry." 

"  Indeed,  I  shall  not  give  ten  cents  for  it!  " 
said  Harry.  "  It's  not  worth  it  and  —  why, 
Mag,  you  are  growing  as  mean  as,  —  as  mean 
as  — "  Harry  stopped,  for  he  saw  Maggie's 
color  rising  and  tlie  tears  coming  in  her  eyes, 
and  he  was  not  an  unkind  boy,  who  would 
willingly  hurt  or  grieve  his  little  sisters. 

"  She  is  a  real  miser,"  said  Fred. 

Poor  Maggie !  this  was  too  much,  and  she 
burst  into  tears. 


5^  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  Don't  cry,  Maggie,"  said  Harry.  "  I  did 
not  mean  to  hurt  you,  but  I  do  not  know 
wliat  to  make  of  you." 

"  What's  all  tliis  wonderful  fuss  about  mon- 
ey, Bessie  ?  "  asked  Fred. 

"  Ask  me  no  lies^  and  I'll  tell  you  no  ques- 
tions^''  said  Bessie,  holding  up  her  head  and 
looking  at  her  brothers  with  a  grave,  reprov- 
ing air,  "  You  talk  very  unproperly  to  my 
Macrfirie." 

CO 

At  this,  the  boys  shouted  and  laughed  so 
loud  and  so  long  that  Bessie  felt  as  badly  as 
her  sister,  and  saying,  "  Let's  go  away,  Mag- 
gie," they  ran  off. 

When  Mr.  Bradford  came  out  of  his  room^ 
he  saw  his  little  girls  sitting  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  looking  very  unhappy.  Maggie  had  been 
crying  ;  Bessie  had  her  arm  around  her  waist, 
as  though  she  were  trying  to  comfort  her,  but 
looked  as  if  she  wanted  comfort  herself. 


The  Miser,  57 

"  Why,  what  ails  my  singing  birdies  this 
morning  ?  "  asked  papa.  "  In  trouble  so  early 
in  the  day  ?  " 

"  Papa,"  said  Bessie,  in  a  grieved  little 
voice,  "  we  are  having  very  misable  times  to- 
day." 

"-  That  is  bad,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  sitting 
down  on  the  stairs  beside  them  ;  "  but  tell  pa- 
pa what  it  is,  and  see  if  he  cannot  help  you 
into  pleasanter  times." 

"  People  say  things  to  us,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  do  you  not  wish  people  to  speak  to 
you?" 

''  Oh,  yes,  papa,  if  they  say  nice  things  ;  but 
first,  nurse  called  our  shells  and  sea-weed, 
'  truck. '  " 

"  Very  poor  taste  in  nurse,"  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford ;  "  but  I  would  not  fret  about  that.  Is 
there  anything  more  ?  " 


58  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  Yes,  papa,"  —  Bessie  hesitated,  —  "  but  I 
do  not  like  to  tell  tales." 

"  But  I  want  to  know  what  the  trouble  is, 
1  shall  not  think  jou  are  telling  tales  when  I 
ask  you." 

"  HaiTj  called  me  '  mean,'  and  Fred  said  I 
was  '  a  miser,'  "  said  Maggie,  beginning  to  cry 
again.  "  And  I  wouldn't  be  such  an  ugly 
thing,  now  !  " 

"  What  is  a  miser,  Maggie  ?  "  asked  papa. 

*'  An  ugly  old  man,  who  makes  believe  he 
hasn't  any  money,  when  he  has  a  whole  lot  in 
bags  in  a  chest,  and  doesn't  eat  anything  but 
crusts,  with  an  ugly,  thin  cat  who  hunches  up 
her  back,"  said  Maggie. 

Maggie's  idea  of  a  miser  was  taken  from  a 
picture  she  had  once  seen. 

"  Then  my  rosebud  does  not  look  much 
like  a  miser,"  answered  Mr.  Bradford,  patting 
Maggie's  round,  smooth  cheek. 


The  Miser.  50 

"  But  he  meant  I  was  like  a  miser,  and  they 
laughed  at  Bessie,"  said  Maggie. 

"  But  I  quarrelled  and  said  a  cross  thing  to 
them,  papa,"  said  Bessie,  who  was  always 
ready  to  own  when  she  had  done  wrong. 

^'  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

Bessie  repeated  what  slie  had  said  to  the 
boys,  making  the  same  mistake  she  liad  done 
before,  and  her  father  could  not  wonder  that 
they  had  laughed.  He  asked  a  question  or 
two  more,  and  soon  knew  the  whole  story  of 
the  penny  and  the  shell. 

"And  it  is  very  hard  to  have  people  say 
such  things  when  it  is  a  good  purpose,  papa," 
said  Maggie,  wiping  her  eyes  as  she  finished. 

''  So  it  is,  Maggie  ;  but  it  is  what  we  must 
all  look  for,  more  or  less  in  this  world.  When 
we  are  trying  to  do  good,  other  people  will 
sometimes  misunderstand  us,  tliink  that  we 
are  doing  the  wrong  thing,  or  perhaps  doing 


Co  Bessie  in  the   City. 

the  riglit  thing  in  the  wrong  way  ;  and  they 
may  tell  us  so,  or  make  unkind  remarks  about 
us.  Bat  if  we  feel  that  we  are  doing  right, 
and  know  that  we  are  about  the  dear  Saviour's 
work,  we  should  not  mind  that.  Yes,  and  we 
must  bear  to  be  laughed  at  too,  my  Bessie. 
I  do  not  think  though  that  your  brothers  have 
meant  to  grieve  you  so  much.  Fred,  I  know, 
will  sometimes  tease,  but  Harry  is  not  apt  to 
be  unkind  or  provoking." 

"  No,  papa,"  said  Maggie.  "  Harry  is  a 
very  good,  kind  brother." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  papa.  "  Do  the  boys 
know  why  you  are  so  anxious  to  earn 
money  ?  "  ^ 

"  No,  papa.  I  did  not  tell  them,  'cause  I 
thought  maybe  they  would  laugh  at  me." 

''  They  shall  not  laugli  at  you,  I  will 
answer  for  that.  But,  although  they  were 
not  very  polite  or  kind  in  their  way  of  telling 


The  Miser.  6x 

you  so,  you  can  scarcely  wonder  tliat  your 
brothers  were  surprised  at  your  wish  to  be 
paid  for  any  little  favor  you  might  do  them. 
You  are  generally  so  obliging  and  willing, 
so  ready  to  run  and  to  do  for  the  pleasure 
of  helping  others,  that  I  myself  might  have 
thought  you  selfish  and  disobliging,  had  I 
heard  you  asking  for  pay  without  knowing 
your  reason.  And  I  would  not  do  so  again, 
dearie.  Whatever  you  may  be  able  to  save  by 
denying  or  taking  any  pains  with  yourselves, 
or  may  make  by  doing  any  little  extra  work 
for  mamma  or  any  one  else,  well  and  good  ; 
but  I  would  not  ask  to  be  paid  for  such  small 
things  as  you  are  in  the  habit  of  doing  every 
day  for  those  around  you.  You  must  not  be 
too  eager  to  gain  money  for  any  purpose." 

"  Not  for  a  good  one,  papa  ?  " 

"  No.  Never  do  wrong  that  good  may  come 
of  it." 


62  Bessie  in  the   City. 

"  Do  yoii  think  I  was  like  a  miser  this 
morning,  papa  ? " 

"No.  I  do  not  thinic  Fred  quite  under- 
stood the  meaning  of  the  word  himself  when 
he  used  it  in  that  way.  To  be  miserly,  or  like 
a  miser,  is  to  try  to  save  and  put  by  money 
only  that  we  may  look  at  it,  and  count  it 
over,  taking  pleasure  in  the  thought  that  we 
have  it,  not  in  using  it  for  our  good  or  pleas- 
ure, or  that  of  others.  Do  you  understand 
me?" 

"  Yes,  papa.  You  mean  if  Bessie  and  I 
were  to  put  all  our  money  into  that  box  of 
mamma's,  and  just  count  it  and  count  it,  and 
never  take  any  out,  or  spend  it  for  the  library 
or  anything  else,  we  would  be  little  misers 
even  if  we  are  not  old  men  ? " 

"  Papa,"  said  Bessie,  "  yesterday  morning 
at  prayers,  you  yead  about  the  lord  who  went 
away   and   gave   his  servants   money  to  take 


The  Miser.  63 

care  of,  and  how  one  of  them  put  his  money 
ill  a  napkin,  and  dug  a  hole  in  the  ground 
and  hid  it  there ;  and  when  his  lord  came 
home,  he  was  angry  with  him,  and  punished 
him.     Was  that  man  a  miser  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  think  we  may  call  him  a 
miser  ;  and  I  am  glad  my  little  girl  remem- 
bers so  well.  We  may  be  miserly  with  other 
things  than  money.  If  we  do  not  use  any  of 
the  gifts  which  God  has  given  us  as  he  in- 
tended we  should  do,  for  our  own  good  and 
that  of  others,  we  are  misers ;  and  it  is  as 
wrong  to  do  so  as  it  would  be  to  waste  them, 
or  throw  them  away.  Suppose  you  were  to 
say,  '  These  are  very  small  hands  and  feet 
which  God  has  given  to  me  ;  they  are  not 
nearly  as  large  as  papa's  or  mamma's,  or  even 
as  strong  as  my  brothers  ;  they  cannot  do  much 
work,  so  they  shall  do  none  at  all ;  I  will  not 
run  up  and  down  stairs,  or  go  little  errands ; 


64  Bessie  in  the   City, 

I  will  not  rock  the  baby,  or  amuse  Fraiikj, 
or  do  any  other  thing  which  might  save  my 
mamma  some  trouble ;  I  will  not  even  play 
about,  or  go  out  to  walk,  but  just  sit  still  and 
do  nothing  all  day  long.  Or,  this  is  a  very 
young  mind  of  mine,  it  knows  very  little,  and 
cannot  understand  everything,  so  I  shall  not 
try  to  learn  and  add  more  knowledge  to  that 
which  I  have.  I  cannot  do  much  for  the 
praise  and  glory  of  God  who  made  me  and  gave 
me  every  good  thing  I  have,  so  I  shall  not  try 
to  please  him  at  all.  I  will  take  and  keep  all 
he  gives  me,  but  1  will  not  use  it  or  enjoy  it, 
nor  let  others  do  so.'  This  would  be  like  the 
poor  foolish  man  who  buried  his  talent,  in- 
stead of  making  use  of  it  for  his  lord.  It 
would  be  like  a  miser." 

"  But,  papa,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  don't  think 
I  could  be  a  miser  with  my  hands  and  feet. 
Why,  I   would  think  it  was  dreadful  to  sit 


The  Miser.  65 

still  all  day  and  do  nothing.  They  will  move 
sometimes  even  when  I  don't  mean  them  to  : 
and  if  I  want  them  to  keep  still,  they  seem  to 
forget  and  just  move  of  themselves." 

Mr.  Bradford  smiled  as  he  remembered  how 
true  Maggie's  words  were.  It  did  indeed 
seem  impossible  for  those  restless  little  hands 
and  feet  to  keep  still ;  they  must  always  be 
busy  about  something,  and  he  knew  that  she 
could  scarcely  have  a  greater  punishment  than 
to  be  forced  to  sit  quiet  for  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes  at  a  time. 

"  Papa  must  take  his  hands  and  feet  away 
now,"  he  said,  "  or  they  will  be  late  at  the 
office.  The  hands  and  the  head,  too,  have  a 
good  deal  to  do  to-day  if  they  are  to  feel  at 
liberty  to  go  to  Riverside  to-morrow ;  so  kiss 
me  for  good-by." 

Mr.  Bradford  stopped  in  the  breakfast-room, 
where  the  boys  still  were,  and  telling  them 
5 


66  Bessie  in  the   Ctty. 

of  what  their  sisters  were  trying  to  do,  and 
how  earnest  they  were  about  it,  said  he  hoped 
they  would  neither  tease  nor  laugh  at  them, 
but  would  do  all  in  their  power  to  help  them. 

Harry  and  Fred  were  really  sorry  when 
they  heard  how  distressed  the  little  girls  had 
been,  and  promised  to  do  nothing  more  to 
trouble  them. 

"  I  cannot  quite  promise  not  to  laugh  at 
Bessie,  papa,"  said  Harry.  "■  She  says  such 
droll  things  in  such  a  droll  way,  or  twists 
something  about,  and  comes  out  with  it  with 
such  a  grand  air  for  such  a  mite  of  a 
thing  as  she  is,  that  a  fellow  can't  help 
laughing.'' 

"  The  greater  the  difficulty,  the  greater  the 
kindness  to  your  little  sister,  my  son.  I  know 
it  is  hard,  sometimes  almost  impossible,  to 
help  smiling,  or  even  laughing  outright,  at 
some    of    Bessie's    speeches ;    but  you   may 


The  Miser,  67 

avoid  doing  so  in  a  loud,  boisterous,  mocking 
way.  Put  yourselves  in  her  place,  boys,  and 
thiiik  how  you  would  like  it." 

"  I'm  sure  I  do  not  mind  being  laughed  at, 
papa ;    at  least,  not  much,"  said  Harry. 

''  No,"  said  Fred,  "  that  he  don't ;  so  he 
never  is  laughed  at.  The  other  fellows  say 
it's  no  fun  teasing  him,  he's  so  cool  about  it." 

"  But  Bessie  does  mind  it,"  said  his  father, 
"  and  so  does  Maggie  ;  and  we  are  not  to 
judge  that  a  thing  is  right  and  kind  because 
it  is  not  disagreeable  to  ourselves.  You  know 
your  Aunt  Annie  is  exceedingly  afraid  of  a 
mouse." 

"  Indeed,  she  is,"  said  Fred.  "  She'll  squeal 
and  jump  on  a  chair,  and  turn  as  white  as  a 
sheet,  if  she  only  suspects  there  is  one  in  the 
room." 

"  It  is  real  honest  fear,  too,"  said  Harry, 
'*  no  make  believe  about  it.     I  am  real  sorry 


68  Bessie  m  the   City* 

for  her,  too;  it  must  make  her  so  uncom- 
fortable." 

"  Yes,"  said  his  father.  "  She  was  fright- 
ened by  one  when  a  child,  and  cannot  over- 
come her  fear  of  them.  Now  I  am  not  in  the 
least  afraid  of  mice  ;  indeed,  if  they  were  not 
so  mischievous,  I  should  enjoy  seeing  them 
play  about  the  house ;  but  would  you  not 
think  me  cruel  and  unfeeling  if  I  were  to  allow 
a  mouse  to  be  in  the  room  with  Annie,  while  I 
either  amused  myself  with  her  fears  or  was 
quite  careless  of  them  ?  Would  you  think  I 
was  doing  as  I  would  be  done  by  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  both  the  boys. 

"  Then  you  see  the  golden  rule  teaches  us 
not  only  to  avoid  doing  those  things  to  others 
which  are  painful  to  ourselves,  but  also  to  put 
ourselves  in  their  places,  and  to  say,  '  How 
should  I  wish  to  be  done  by  if  I  felt  as  they  do  ?  ' 
There,  I  have   given    two   little   lessons   this 


The  Miser.  O9 

morning,  —  one  to  my  girls,  and  one  to  my 
boys,  —  and  shall  have  to  read  a  third  to  my 
self  on  the  meaning  of  the  word  punctual  if  1 
do  not  hurry  away.     Good-by  to  you." 

As  soon  as  their  father  had  left  them, 
Maggie  and  Bessie  ran  away  to  mamma's 
room.  Maggie,  always  eager  for  anything  new, 
begged  that  she  might  have  one  of  her  towels 
to  begin  to  hem  it  at  once.  But  mamma  said 
it  was  time  for  their  walk,  and  they  must  go 
out  first.  They  found  not  only  Mr.  Hall,  but 
also  their  friend,  Colonel  Rush,  in  the  park, 
and  Bessie  introduced  them  to  each  other,  say- 
ing, gravely,  "  Mr.  Hall,  please  to  know  Colonel 
Yush;  Colonel  Yush,  please  to  know  Mr.  Hall." 

The  two  gentlemen  smiled,  shook  hands 
heartily,  and  certainly  seemed  well  pleased  to 
know  each  other.  Perhaps  it  was  partly  be- 
cause they  were  both  so  fond  of  the  dear  little 
girls  who  stood  beside  them. 


70  Bessie  in  the   City, 

When  the  children  went  home,  mamma  had 
a  towel  neatly  folded  and  begun  for  Maggie. 
She  sat  down  at  once,  sewing  away  in  a  great 
hurry,  and  saying  to  Bessie  that  she  was  going 
to  finish  it  that  day.  Presently  mamma, 
seeing  that  she  was  moving  along  the  hem 
pretty  fast,  came  and  looked  at  her  work. 

"  Oh,  Maggie,  Maggie! "  she  said,  "  this  will 
not  do,  my  dear  child.  Such  long,  crooked 
stitches !  Why,  you  can  sew  much  better  than 
this." 

"  Yes,  mamma,  but  then  I  am  in  such  a 
hurry  to  finish  it." 

"  But  you  must  not  be  in  such  a  hurry, 
dear,  that  you  cannot  take  time  to  do  it 
neatly.  Suppose,  when  the  towel  is  done,  I 
were  to  hand  you  three  cents  and  say,  'I  am  in 
such  a  hurry,  Maggie,  I  shall  only  give  you 
three  cents.'  Would  you  think  that  quite 
fair  ?  " 


The  Miser,  71 

Maggie  laughed.  "  No,  indeed,  mamma  ; 
but  you  would  not  do  such  a  thing." 

"  I  hope  not ;  and  when  you  come  to  think 
about  it,  I  am  sure  you  will  see  that  it  is  not 
fair  for  you  to  do  my  work  poorly  if  I  am  to 
pay  you  for  it." 

^'  Must  it  all  come  out,  mamma  ? "  asked 
Maggie,  as  her  mother  took  the  work  from 
her  hand. 

"  I  am  afraid  so,  dear.  See  there,  those 
stitches  would  not  hold  at  all.  I  think  we 
will  take  half  of  one  side  of  a  towel  for  each 
day's  task.  That  will  finish  them  in  time, 
and  you  will  soon  tire  of  the  work  if  you  try 
to  hurry  through  it  in  this  way." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  as  her  mother 
Landed  back  the  totvei  to  Maggie  to  make  a 
fresh  beginning,  "  could  not  I  learn  to  sew  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  are  old  enough  to  begin, 
if  you  will  be  patient." 


73  Bessie  in  the   City, 

*'  Oh,  yes,  mamma,  I  will  be  patient  to 
learn,  if  you  will  be  patient  to  teach  me." 

There  was  not  much  doubt  about  that,  so 
the  dear  kind  mother  found  a  little  piece  of 
work  and  fixed  it  for  Bessie.  But  she  had  no 
thimble  of  her  own,  and  for  that  day  had  to 
use  an  old  one  of  Maggie's  with  a  piece  of 
paper  wrapped  round  her  finger  to  make  it 
stay  in  its  place.  Mamma  promised  to  buy 
her  one  that  very  day,  and  after  this,  whenever 
Maggie  hemmed  her  towels,  Bessie  would  sit 
beside  her  learning  to  put  in  stiches  that  grew 
neater  and  neater  every  day. 


IV. 

FLOSS  r. 

UNT  HELEN!  Aunt  Helen!"  said 
Maggie,  almost  as  soon  as  they  reached 
Riverside  the  next  day,  "  may  we  run  down 
in  the  garden  and  find  Donald  ?  " 

Donald  was  the  old  Scotch  gardener  who 
lived  at  Riverside.  He  had  been  there  for  a 
great  many  years,  long  before  Maggie  and 
Bessie  were  born,  long  enougli,  as  Maggie 
said,  "  to  learn  to  talk  American,"  if  he  had 
cliosen  to  do  so.  But  Donald  loved  the  dear 
old  Scotch  brogue  which  reminded  him  oi 
his  fatherland  so  far  away,  and  was  at  nc 
pains  to  drop  it ;  and  our  little  girls  liked  liim 
none   the  less  that   they  sometimes   found  it 


74  Bessie  in  the   City, 

hard  work  to  understand'  him.  And  they 
had  good  reason  to  like  him,  for  he  was  glad 
to  see  them  when  they  came  to  Riverside,  and 
tried  all  he  could  to  make  their  visits  pleas- 
ant to  them.  They  were  in  a  great  hurry  to 
find  him  this  morning,  and  could  scarcely  rest 
till  they  had  permission  to  do  so. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Grandpapa  Duncan, 
"  this  is  a  nice  thing.  Have  you  grown  so 
fond  of  Donald  since  you  have  been  away  that 
you  have  hardly  time  to  speak  to  me  before 
you  run  away  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  grandpapa,"  said  Maggie,  "  we 
like  Donald  very  much,  but  you  know  we  like 
you  a  great  deal  more ;  but  you  see  we  are  so 
anxious  about  the  puppy." 

"  Oh,  ho  !  then  it  is  the  puppy  you  like 
better  than  me  ?  I  do  not  see  that  that  mends 
the  matter." 

"  Now,  grandpapa ! "  said  Maggie. 


Flossy.  75 

"  Couldn't  you  come  with  us,  grandpapa  ?  " 
asked  Bessie,  coaxinglj. 

"  Yes,  do,"  said  Maggie,  "  it's  such  a  nice, 
pleasant  day.     It  will  do  you  good." 

*'  And  it  will  do  us  good  to  have  you,"  said 
Bessie. 

Grandpapa  was  very  much  pleased,  but 
though  there  was  a  smile  on  his  lips  and  in 
his  eye,  he  wrinkled  up  his  brow  and  pre- 
tended to  think  it  was  very  hard  he  should  be 
asked  to  go  out.  Perhaps  he  wanted  to  be 
coaxed  a  little  more. 

*'I  have  no  hat  or  cane  here,"  he  said, 
gruffly. 

Away  ran  Maggie  and  Bessie  into  the  hall, 
and  presently  came  back,  the  one  with  grand- 
papa's hat,  the  other  with  his  cane.  Maggie 
climbed  on  his  chair  and  put  his  hat  on  liis 
head,  pretty  well  down  over  his  nose  too^ 
while  Bessie  placed  the  cane  in  his  hand. 


76  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"Now  you  are  all  ready,"  said  Maggie. 

"  But  I  have  a  boue  in  my  knee  ;  how  am  I 
to  get  up  ?  "  said  grandpapa. 

Maggie  took  hold  of  one  hand  and  Bessie 
of  the  other,  and  after  a  great  deal  of  pulling, 
with  some  pretended  scolding  and  grumbling 
from  grandpapa,  he  was  upon  his  feet. 

"A  nice  thing,  to  be  sure,"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, "  for  two  little  city  damsels  to  come 
out  here  to  my  quiet  country  home,  to  pull  me 
out  of  my  comfortable  easy-chair  and  trot  me 
around  after  puppy  dogs  and  other  nonsense  !  " 
and  he  frowned  harder  than  ever,  shaking  his 
cane  fiercely  at  the  laughing  children,  who 
knew  very  well  that  this  was  only  fun,  and 
that  lie  was  really  glad  to  go  with  them.  They 
thought  it  a  fine  joke,  and  went  skipping  mer- 
rily along,  one  on  each  side  of  him.  They 
had  gone  but  a  few  steps  from  the  house,  when 
Bessie  stood  still,  exclaiming, — 


Flossy.  77 

"  Oh,  how  pretty,  how  pretty !     Look,  grand 
papa  !  look,  Maggie  !  " 

It  was  indeed  a  pretty  sight  that  she  saw. 
Just  in  front  of  them  stood  two  tall  trees 
which  grew  straight  vipwards  for  some  dis- 
tance and  then  leaned  a  little  towards  each 
other,  so  that  at  the  top  their  branches  wove 
themselves  together,  making  an  arch.  Over 
each  tree  ran  a  Virginia  creeper,  or  grass 
vine,  winding  round  and  round  the  trunks, 
spreading  over  the  branches,  and  when  they 
could  hnd  nothing  more  to  cling  to,  throwing 
out  long  sprays  and  tendrils,  which  waved 
gracefully  about  in  the  gentle  breeze  coming 
up  from  the  river.  Although  it  was  only  the 
middle  of  September,  there  had  been  several 
cool,  frosty  nights,  and  the  leaves  of  the  vine 
were  already  of  a  bright  crimson.  The  trees 
were  still  quite  green,  and  the  contrast  be- 


78  Bessie  in  the   City. 

tween  their  color  and  the  red  of  the  vine  was 
very  beautiful. 

"  Oh,  who  did  it,  grandpapa  ?  "  said  Bessie. 
"  Who  painted  those  leaves  ?     Did  Donald  ?  " 

"  No,  darling,  no  hand  of  man  could  paint 
that.  This  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  in- 
deed marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

"  Do  you  mean  our  Father  in  heaven  did  it, 
grandpapa  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  it  was  the  great  and  loving  Fa- 
ther, who  has  not  only  made  his  earth  to  bring 
forth  food  and  drink  for  all  his  creatures,  but 
has  also  made  it  so  beautiful  that  it  may 
please  and  delight  our  eyes." 

"  But,"  said  Maggie,  in  great  astonishment, 
"  that  vine  used  to  be  all  green  just  like  the 
tree.     How  did  it  come  red  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  grandpapa.  "  Do 
you  know  what  the  sap  is  ? " 


i<  \r, 


No,  sir." 


Flossy.  79 

Air.  Duncan  looked  around  him,  and  then, 
taking  his  knife  from  his  pocket,  cut  a  slip 
from  a  tall  plant  which  grew  near.  He  pressed 
it  with  his  thumb  and  finger,  and  a  small 
whitish  drop  oozed  slowly  out  from  the  end 
which  had  been  cut. 

"  See  there,"  he  said,  "  that  is  the  sap  or 
juice  of  the  plant.  It  is  in  every  tree  or  bush, 
and  goes  running  through  the  trunk,  branches, 
and  leaves  much  as  the  blood  runs  through  the 
veins  in  your  body.  All  through  the  summer 
it  keeps  the  branches  moist  and  the  leaves 
fresh  and  green  ;  but  it  does  not  like  the  cold, 
and  when  the  frost  comes,  it  runs  away  from 
the  leaves.  Then  they  begin  to  turn,  some 
red,  some  yellow,  some  brown.  Our  pretty 
creepers  here  are  among  the  first  to  feel  the 
cold ;  and  they  turn  sooner  than  the  trees 
over  which  they  grow.  As  the  weather  be- 
comes colder,  the  sap  goes  farther  and  farther 


So  Bessie  in  the   City, 

away,  back  through  the  branches  and  down 
through  the  trunk  till  it  reaches  the  roots, 
where  it  lies  snug  and  close  in  its  winter  home 
under  the  warm  earth.  Then  the  leaves 
shrivel  up  and  lose  their  bright  colors  and  fall 
to  the  ground.  If  you  break  a  branch  from  a 
tree  in  winter,  it  will  snap  more  easily  than  it 
will  in  the  summer,  because  it  is  dry  and  brit- 
tle from  the  loss  of  its  sap.  All  through  the 
col\i  weather  the  sap  keeps  hidden  quietly 
away  in  the  roots  ;  but  in  the  spring  when  the 
air  grows  mild  and  pleasant,  it  begins  to  stir 
and  move  upward  again.  Up,  up  it  goes 
through  the  trunk  and  branches,  till,  as  the 
weather  grows  warmer  and  warmer,  the  little 
buds  which  hold  the  young  leaves  and  blos- 
soms begin  to  show  themselves,  and  at  last 
unfold.  Then  the  small  tender  leaves  peep 
out  and  gather  strength  and  life  from  the  soft 
air  and  bright  sunshine  and  gentle  rain,  till 


J^lossy,  8l 

the  trees  and  bushes  are  covered  with  their 
beautiful  green  dress  and  make  a  pleasant 
shade  for  my  Maggie  and  Bessie  when  they 
come  out  to  see  their  old  grandpapa  at  Eiver- 
side." 

"  And  give  us  pretty  flowers  to  smell  and 
look  at,  and  nice  fruit  to  eat,''  said  Bessie. 

''  Yes,  and  see  how  our  Father  thinks  of 
us  and  cares  for  our  comfort  at  every  season. 
If  we  had  not  this  pleasant  shade  in  the  sum- 
mer, with  the  soft  green  for  our  eyes  to  rest 
upon,  w^e  could  scarcely  bear  the  heat  and 
light  of  the  sun.  But  in  the  winter  we  need 
all  the  heat  and  light  we  can  have  ;  and  then, 
the  leaves  drop  away  and  let  the  rays  of  the 
sun  fall  upon  the  earth  to  warm  and  cheer 
us." 

While  grandpapa  was  talking,  they  had 
been  walking  on ;  and  now,  as  they  turned 
a  corner,  they  saw  Donald.      He  was   tying 


82  Bessie  in   the   City, 

up  some  dahlias.  The  little  girls  ran  for- 
ward. 

"  How  do  jou  do,  Donald  ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  How  is  the  puppy,  Donald  ?  "  asked  Mag- 
gie. 

"  And  how's  yersel',"  said  Donald.  "  Eh, 
but  I'm  blithe  to  see  ye  aince  mair." 

*'  We're  well,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  I  can  yun 
about  now,  and  my  feet  don't  get  so  tired  as 
they  used  to." 

"  That's  gude  news,"  said  Donald  ;  "  an* 
noo  ye'll  be  wantin'  the  wee  doggie  hame  wi' 
ye.  Weel,  he's  big  eneuch;  and  I  think  ye 
may  tak'  him  if  yer  mither's  willin'." 

The  children  understood  enough  of  what 
Donald  was  saying  to  know  that  he  meant 
they  could  take  the  puppy  home  if  tlieir 
mother  would  not  object;  and  Maggie  hast- 
ened to  say,  "  Oh,  yes !  mamma  will  let  us 
have  him ;  she  quite  expects  us  to  take  him 


Bessie  in  City. 


Flossy,  S;^ 

home,  Donald.  Could  you  let  us  see  him 
now  ? " 

Donald  was  quite  ready,  and  they  all  went 
over  to  his  cottage,  where  the  first  thing  they 
saw  was  Flossy  himself,  playing  on  the  grass 
with  his  two  puppy  brothers.  They  all  came 
running  up  to  Donald,  as  if  they  were  glad  to 
see  him,  and  then  went  snuffing  and  smell- 
ing about  the  feet  of  the  children,  as  if  they 
wanted  to  find  out  who  these  little  strangers 
could  be. 

In  five  minutes  they  were  all  the  best  of 
friends,  and  Maggie  and  Bessie  were  seated 
upon  the  grass  with  the  three  little  dogs  jump- 
ing, capering,  and  tumbling  about  them  and  over 
them.  Such  a  frolic  as  they  had,  and  how  the 
children  laughed,  and  how  the  puppies  barked 
and  yelped  and  frisked  about,  while  it  was 
bard  to  say  who  enjoyed  it  most,  the  little 
girls  and  the  dogs,  or  grandpapa,  Donald,  and 


84  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Alice,  who  watched  them    from   the   cottage 
steps. 

The  puppies  were  all  pretty,  but  Flossy 
was  certainly  the  prettiest  of  the  three.  He 
was  beautifully  marked  in  brown  and  white, 
and  his  coat  was  already  becoming  long, 
silken,  and  glossy.  He  was  also  the  most 
playful  and  mischievous ;  and  grandpapa  told 
Maggie  and  Bessie  he  thought  they  would 
have  their  hands  full  to  keep  him  out  of 
harm.  Once,  in  the  midst  of  tlieir  play, 
Maggie's  hat  fell  off,  and  in  an  instant 
Flossy  had  pounced  upon  it,  and,  when  Mag- 
gie tried  to  take  it  from  him,  ran  away, 
dragging  it  after  him.  Round  and  round 
the  house  he  tore,  and  they  had  quite  a  race 
to  get  it  from  him.  At  last  Donald  caught 
him  and  took  the  hat  from  him  ;  but,  alas  !  it 
was  none  the  better  for  its  rough  journey  over 
the  gravel  walks.     He  was  next  at  his  own 


Flossy.  85 

finery.  Alice,  Donald's  wife,  had  tied  about 
his  neck  the  red  ribbon  which  she  kept  to 
dress  him  with  when  his  little  mistresses  came 
10  Riverside,  but  his  brothers  seemed  to  think 
he  had  no  right  to  be  finer  than  they  were, 
and  were  all  the  time  pulling  and  snapping  at 
the  ribbon,  till  at  last  it  came  untied.  But 
Flossy  had  no  idea  of  letting  another  puppy 
have  that  which  belonged  to  himself,  and  pretty 
quickly  snatched  it  from  them.  Off  he  went 
again  before  the  children  could  stop  him,  and 
running  down  in  the  cellar  and  behind  some 
barrels,  soon  had  the  ribbon  torn  to  bits. 
Alice  was  quite  vexed  when  at  last  she  pulled 
him  from  his  hiding-place,  and  found  the 
ribbon  entirely  destroyed ;  but  the  children 
thought  him  very  smart,  and  did  not  see  why 
he  should  not  have  his  fun. 

"  Eh,   but    you're    an    ill    beastie ! "    said 
Alice,  giving  Flossy  a  cuff  on  the  ear. 


86  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Bessie's  little  tender  heart  was  quite  grieved. 
"  Alice,"  she  said,  "  I  was  'fraid  niaybe  you'd 
be  sorry  when  we  took  Flossy  away  ;  but  I 
guess  you  don't  care  much  ;  do  you  ?  " 

"  Na,  na !  "  said  Alice.  "  I  canna  be  fashed 
wi'  the  three  o'  them,  an'  this  ane's  the  warst 
o'  them  a'.  He's  aye  in  mischief.  Didna  he 
lick  a'  the  cream  for  my  mon's  breakfast  ?  " 

Scarce  a  word  did  the  children  understand, 
except  that  Flossy  had  drank  the  cream 
meant  for  Donald's  breakfast,  and  that  Alice 
was  rather  pleased  to  be  rid  of  him. 

"  Perhaps  he  don't  know  any  better,"  said 
Bessie.     "  He'll  have  to  be  teached." 

"  'Deed  does  he,"  said  Alice,  as  if  she  were 
glad  she  was  no  longer  to  have  the  teaching 
of  him. 

"  Grandpapa,"  said  Maggie,  "  may  we  take 
Flossy  up  to  the  house  now,  so  that  he  may 
be  used  to  us  before  we  go  home  ? " 


Flossy.  87 

Grandpapa  said  tbej  might,  and  Maggie 
told  Bessie  that  she  should  carry  him. 

"I'll  only  carry  him  half  the  way,"  said 
Bessie,  "  and  you  can  carry  him  the  yest." 

But  Flossy  had  no  mind  to  be  carried  at 
all.  He  liked  to  frisk  about  on  his  own  four 
feet,  and  was  quite  ready  to  run  after  his 
little  mistresses.  Indeed,  the  puppies  were  all 
so  well  pleased  with  their  new  playmates  that 
the  other  two  wished  to  go  also,  and  Donald 
had  to  shut  them  up  to  prevent  them  from 
following. 

Grandpapa  said  they  would  not  go  directly 
home,  but  through  the  orchard,  and  so  down 
to  the  river  bank.  In  the  orchard  the  men 
were  picking  the  early  apples  and  packing 
them  in  barrels,  and  grandpapa,  going  to  one 
of  them,  chose  two  large  rosy-cheeked  apples 
and  gave   one  to  Maggie  and  one  to  Bessie. 


88  Bessie  in  the  City, 

They  stood  a  while  watching  the  men,  and  then 
turned  to  go  on. 

Between  the  orchard  and  the  river  lay  a 
broad  green  field,  and  in  this  field  several 
cows  and  a  large  flock  of  sheep  were  feeding. 
Now  Bessie,  although  she  was  not  a  timid 
child  about  many  things,  was  afraid  of  cattle ; 
and  as  Mr.  Duncan  opened  the  gate  into  the 
field,  she  drew  back. 

"  Grandpa,"  she  said,  "  bettern't  we  go  the 
other  way  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  grandpapa.  ''  This 
way  is  the  pleasantest,  and  I  have  something 
to  show  you  down  by  the  water." 

"  But  if  we  should  be  bucked,  what  would 
our  mamma  say  ?  "  asked  the  little  girl,  still 
looking  timidly  at  the  cows. 

''  We  shall  not  be  bucked,  dear,"  said  grand- 
papa, smiling.      "Does    my   Bessie   think   I 


Flossy.  89 

would  take  her  or  Maggie  where  there  was 
danger  ?  " 

"  No,  grandpapa,  but  —  "  Bessie  still  hung 
back. 

"  You  shall  not  go  this  way,  dear,  if  you 
do  not  wish  ;  but  these  are  our  cows,  and  1 
know  them  to  be  all  peaceable  and  good-tem- 
pered. But  if  we  turn  back  and  go  through 
the  garden  again,  1  shall  be  too  tired  to  take 
you  down  to  the  river." 

"  I  think  we'll  go  this  way,"  said  Bessie, 
and  so  they  went  on  ;  but  as  they  passed  the 
cows,  grandpapa  felt  the  little  hand  he  held 
nestle  itself  very  tightly  in  his  own,  and  as 
he  saw  how  her  color  came  and  went,  he  was 
sorry  he  had  not  turned  back.  The  cows  did 
not  notice  them  at  all,  not  even  when  Flossy, 
who  seemed  to  think  it  would  be  a  very  fine 
thing  to  bark  at  something  so  much  larger 
than  himself,  ran  up  to  one  and  began  woof 


90  Bessie  in  the   City. 

woofing  in  a  very  absurd  manner.  The  cow 
just  lifted  up  her  head  and  looked  at  him  for 
a  moment ;  then,  as  if  she  well  knew  that 
such  a  tiny  thing  could  do  her  no  harm,  put 
it  down  and  began  to  eat  again. 

''  Isn't  it  er-dic-u-lous,  grandpapa,"  said 
Maggie,  "  to  see  Flossy  barking  at  that  great 
cow  V  " 

^'  Rather  ridiculous,"  answered  grandpapa. 
"  Look  at  those  little  lambs,  Bessie." 

Bessie  quite  forgot  the  cows  when  she  saw 
the  lambs  playing  by  the  side  of  their  moth- 
ers. But  when  Flossy  found  the  cattle  cared 
nothing  for  him,  he  thought  he  would  try  to 
make  a  little  fuss  here,  and  away  he  ran  after 
one  of  the  lambs.  The  sheep  did  not  take  it 
as  quietly  as  the  cows  ;  the  lamb  was  fright- 
ened, and  the  mother,  who  did  not  understand 
that  this  was  Flossy's  fun,  and  that  he  could 
not  have  hurt  her  child  even  if  he  had  wished 


Flossy.  91 

to,  put  it  behind  her,  and  lowering  her  head, 
stamped  her  foot  at  Flossy  as  if  she  were  very 
angry.  Mr.  Duncan  called  the  puppy  away, 
but  he  would  not  mind,  and  Maggie  ran  to 
take  him  up  in  her  arms.  The  poor  sheep 
saw  her  and  thought- here  was  something  else 
coming  to  hurt  her  baby,  so  she  must  fight  a 
little  herself.  She  ran  at  Maggie,  and  butting 
her  head  against  the  little  girl,  threw  her  over 
upon  the  grass.  The  other  sheep  had  stood 
looking  on  ;  but  now,  as  if  afraid  of  being 
punished  for  what  one  of  their  number  had 
done,  the  wiiole  flock  turned  and  scampered 
away  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  field. 

Maggie  sat  up  upon  the  grass.  She  was 
not  at  all  hurt,  but  rather  frightened  and  very 
much  astonished. 

*'  Are  you  hurt,  little  woman?"  asked  grand- 
papa, as  he  lifted  her  up  and  placed  her  upon 
her  feet 


92  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  No,  grandpapa,  but  —  who  did  it  ?  " 

"  Who  did  it  ?  Why,  the  mothei  sheep 
there.'' 

"  She  is  very  ungrateful,"  said  Maggie,  in- 
dignantly. "  I  came  to  help  her,  and  she 
oughtn't  to  do  it." 

"  She  did  not  know  that,  dear,"  said  grand- 
papa. "  She  thought  you,  too,  were  coming  to 
hurt  her  lamb,  and  she  could  not  tell  what 
else  to  do.  See  there,  Bessie,  the  cows  which 
you  were  so  afraid  of  did  not  even  look 
at  us,  while  this  meek,  timid  sheep,  of  which 
you  had  not  the  least  fear,  has  knocked 
over  Maggie.  Do  not  look  so  distressed, 
dear  ;  Maggie  is  not  hurt  at  all." 

It  was  some  time  before  Bessie  could  quite 
believe  this.  It  seemed  to  her  scarcely  possible 
that  her  dear  Maggie  should  have  been  thrown 
down  in  such  a  rude  fashion,  and  yet  not  be 
hurt.     But  so  it  was ;  not  a  scratch  nor  a  bruise 


Flossy,  93 

was  to  be  found.  The  ground  was  not  very 
hard  just  here,  and  the  grass  quite  soft  and 
long ;  and  beyond  the  fright  and  a  streak  or 
two  of  earth  on  her  white  dress,  Maggie  had 
received  no  harm  from  her  fall.  It  made 
her  feel  rather  sober,  however,  and  she  walked 
quietly  along  by  grandpapa's  side  without 
skipping  and  jumping  as  she  had  done  before. 

"  Grandpapa,"  said  Bessie,  "  don't  you  think 
the  sheep  ought  to  know  better  ?  " 

"  Well,  Bessie,  I  think  we  must  not  blame 
the  poor  creature.  She  did  not  know  that 
Maggie  was  her  friend,  and  Flossy  had  fright- 
ened her  and  made  her  angry.  If  she  had 
been  alone,  she  would  probably  have  run 
away  ;  but  she  loved  her  child  better  than  she 
did  herself,  and  took  the  best  way  she  knew 
to  keep  it  from  harm." 

*'  You  are  very  naughty.  Flossy,"  said 
Bessie.     "  You   did   a  deal   of  misfit,     Ycu 


94  Bessie  ill   the   City, 

— .^s-s^^^^ — 

frightened  the  poor  little  lambie,  and  made 
my  Maggie  be  knocked  down." 

*'  Yes,"  said  Maggie,  "  he'll  have  to  be 
taught,  '  to  do  to  others.'  Poor  little  fellow  ! 
He  don't  know  much  himself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  "  like  all  young 
things,  he  has  much  to  learn,  and  his  teachers 
must  have  a  good  deal  of  patience." 

^'  Grandpapa,"  said  Bessie,  "  are  not  lambs 
pretty  good  baby  animals  ?  " 

"  I  rather  think  they  are,  Bessie.  Perhaps 
their  mammas  sometimes  find  them  trouble- 
some ;  but  we  seldom  or  never  hear  of  a  lamb 
getting  into  mischief  or  naughty  ways.  So 
when  a  child  is  obedient  and  gentle,  we  say  it 
is  like  a  little  lamb." 

"  Mamma  taught  us  such  a  pretty  hymn 
last  week  about  a  lamb,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Can't  you  let  me  hear  it  ?  "  said  grandpapa. 

So  Bessie  repeated  these  verses  :  — 


JFlossy,  Q5 

**  Little  lamb,  who  made  thee  ? 

Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee  ? 
Gave  thee  life,  and  gave  thee  feed. 
By  the  stream,  and  o'er  the  mead ; 
Gave  thee  clothing  of  delight,  — 
Softest  clothing,  woolly,  bright ; 
Gave  thee  such  a  tender  voice, 
Making  all  the  vales  rejoice. 

Little  lamb,  who  made  thee  ? 

Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee  1 

"  Little  lamb,  1^1  tell  thee  ! 

Little  lamb,  I'll  tell  thee  ! 
He  is  called  by  thy  name. 
For  He  calls  Himself  a  lamb. 
He  is  meek,  and  He  is  mild, 
He  became  a  little  child. 
I,  a  child,  and  thou,  a  lamb. 
We  are  called  by  His  name. 

Little  lamb,  God  bless  thee  ! 

Little  lamb,  God  bless  thee !  "* 

She  said  them  slowly  and  carefully,  not 
missing  one  word,  and  grandpapa  was  much 
pleased. 

*'  That   is   indeed   pretty,  my  darling,"  he 

*  William  Blake. 


96'  Bessie  in  the   City. 

said,  "  and  grandpapa  is  much  obliged  to  you. 
What  a  dear,  good  mamma  you  have,  always 
teaching  you  something  useful  or  pretty." 

'•  Oh,  yes  I  "  said  Bessie,  "  she  is  just  the 
most  precious  mamma  that  ever  lived." 

Grandpapa  looked  down  as  if  he  thought 
the  dear  mamma's  little  daughter  was  rather 
precious,  too  ;  but  he  did  not  say  so. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  good  helper  as  our 
mamma,"  said  Maggie.  *'  She  always  can  tell 
us  how  to  do  things." 

Then  Maggie  told  how  mamma  was  helping 
them  to  buy  the  library,  and  of  all  their  little 
plans.  Grandpapa  listened,  and  seemed  very 
much  interested ;  and  by  the  time  the  story 
was  finished,  they  had  reached  the  river. 

Mr.  Duncan  led  them  through  a  grove  of 
locust-trees,  and  just  beyond  was  the  pretty 
sight  he  had  brought  them  to  look  at.  This  was 
a  pond  into  which  the  water  flowed  by  a  narrow 


Flossy,  97 

canal  cut  from  the  river.  Upon  it  were  float- 
ing two  beautiful  white  swans.  The  children 
had  never  seen  them  before,  for  the  pond  had 
been  made,  and  the  swans  brought  there, 
since  their  last  visit  to  Riverside.  Over  the 
canal  was  a  pretty  rustic  bridge,  and  below  it 
a  wire  fence,  which  allowed  the  water  to  flow 
in,  but  through  which  the  swans  could  not 
pass.  On  the  other  side  of  the  pond  was  a 
little  house,  made,  like  the  bridge,  of  boughs 
twisted  together. 

*'  Oh,  grandpapa,"  said  Maggie, ''  what  beau- 
tiful birds  !  How  did  they  come  there  ?  And 
that  water,  too  ?     It  did  not  use  to  be  there." 

*'  No,"  said  Mr.  Duncan.  ''  The  pond  was 
made  this  summer,  while  you  were  at  Quam 
Beach.     Those  birds  are  swans." 

"  And  is  that  their  little  house  ?  "  asked 
Bessie. 

"  Yes,"  said   grandpapa  ;   and  then  taking 


98  Bessie  in  the   City, 

fi'om  his  pocket  a  couple  of  crackers  which  he 
had  brought  for  the  purpose,  he  gave  one  to 
each  of  tlie  children,  and  told  them  they 
might  feed  the  swans.  The  birds  were  not  at 
all  afraid  of  the  little  girls,  and  came  swim- 
ming up  to  where  thej  stood,  arching  their 
graceful  necks  as  if  they  quite  expected  to 
receive  something  nice  to  eat.  Indeed,  they 
were  so  tame  that  when  the  crackers  were 
broken  up,  they  took  pieces  from  the  chil- 
dren's hands  as  if  they  had  known  them  all 
their  lives.  Maggie  and  Bessie  were  delighted, 
and  Maggie  thought  she  would  like  to  stay  by 
the  pond  all  day ;  but  now  Mr.  Duncan  said  it 
was  time  to  go  back  to  the  house,  so  they  bade 
good-by  to  the  swans. 

By  this  time  Flossy  was  tired,  and  was 
quite  willing  to  let  Maggie  take  him  up  in  her 
arms  and  carry  him.  Before  they  readied 
home  he  was  asleep,  and  Maggie  laid  him  in  a 


Flossy,  99 

corner  of  the  sofa  in  the  hall,  and  covered 
him  up  with  a  shawl.  After  a  while,  Bessie 
seeing  him,  thought  she  was  tired  too,  so  she 
climbed  on  the  sofa,  took  Flossy  in  her  arms, 
nestled  down  on  the  cushions,  and  in  five 
minutes  shic,  too,  was  fast  asleep.  There  Mag- 
gie, who  had  been  down  in  the  kitchen,  beg- 
ging the  cook  for  some  milk  for  the  puppy, 
found  her.  She  stood  looking  at  her  for  a 
moment,  then  ran  into  the  library  where  her 
father  and  Uncle  John  were  sitting. 

"  Oh,  papa,"  she  said,  seizing  his  hand, 
*'  come  and  see  the  prettiest  tiling  you  ever 
saw.  Come,  Uncle  John,  do  come ;  but  do 
not  make  any  noise." 

Papa  and  Uncle  John  followed  the  eager 
little  girl,  wlio  led  them  to  the  sofa  where 
Bessie  and  Flossy  lay. 

"Isn't  she  sweet?"  whispered  Maggie. 
"  Isn't  it  just  like  a  picture  ?  " 


lOO  Bessie  in  the    City, 

It  was  indeed  a  pretty  sight.  The  sleeping 
child  in  her  white  dress,  with  her  curls  falling 
over  the  red  cushions,  and  the  little  dog 
clasped  in  her  arms,  his  face  cuddled  up 
against  her  shoulder.  But  Mr.  Duncan  and 
Mr.  Bradford  thought  that  not  the  least  pretty 
part  of  it  was  the  affectionate  little  sister 
standing  by,  looking  at  Bessie  with  so  much 
love  in  her  eyes.  Her  father  could  not  help 
stooping  to  kiss  her.  Just  then  Aunt  Helen 
passed  through  the  hall. 

"  Come  here,  Helen,"  said  Mr.  Duncan. 

"  Isn't  that  a  pretty  picture,  Aunt  Helen  ?  '* 
said  Maggie,  as  her  aunt  paused  to  look.  "  I 
am  going  to  call  mamma." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan,  "  do  not  call 
her.  You  have  given  me  an  idea,  Maggie. 
Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?  " 

Maggie  promised,  and  her  father  said  he 
thought  she  might  be  trusted. 


Flossy.  loi 

Now  Aunt  Helen  could  draw  and  paint 
very  beautifully,  and  her  "  idea"  was  to  make 
a  little  picture  of  Bessie  as  she  lay  sleeping, 
and  to  give  it  to  her  mother  as  a  Christmas 
gift.  She  ran  to  her  room,  and  bringing 
paper  and  pencils,  began  to  sketch  her  little 
niece. 

Mr.    Bradford    looked    over   lier   shoulder. 

"  Could  you  not  put  the  other  one  in  ?  " 
he  whispered,  looking  at  Maggie,  who  still 
seemed  as  if  she  could  not  take  her  eyes 
from  her  sister.  "  We  never  separate  them, 
you  know,  and  it  will  be  a  double  pleasure  to 
Margaret." 

So  Mrs.  Duncan  drew  Maggie,  too,  though 
Maggie  did  not  know  this,  for  her  aunt  said 
she  should  not  let  her  see  the  picture  until  it 
was  quite  finished. 

"  And  mind,"  said  Uncle  John,  "  if  you  say 
a  word  about  it,  I  shall  look  at  you  with  both 


I02  Bessie  in   the   City. 

my  eyes,  and  put  your  nose  between  your 
ears." 

Maggie  laughed,  and  promised  to  be  very 
careful ;  and  now,  as  Bessie  began  to  stir,  Aunt 
Helen  ran  awaj^  with  the  picture. 

Flossy  was  taken  home  in  the  carriage  that 
afternoon,  and  I  must  say,  he  behaved  very 
badly  all  the  way  He  was  not  used  to  riding, 
and  he  did  not  like  it  at  all.  On  the  first 
half  of  the  road,  he  whined  and  fretted  all 
the  time ;  and  when  he  became  a  little  accus- 
tomed to  the  motion,  he  would  not  keep  quiet ; 
and  either  scrambled  ail  about  the  carriage, 
or  if  Maggie  or  Bessie  took  him  upon  her 
lap,  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and 
barked  at  every  person  he  saw,  so  that  his 
little  mistresses  were  quite  mortified. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  "please  don't  think 
he's  the  troublesomest  little  dog  you  ever  saw. 
We  will  teach  him  to  behave  better.     If  you 


Flossy,  103 

hadn't  teached  us,  maybe  we  would  have  been 
as  full  of  misfit  as  he  is." 

Mamma  said  she  did  not  doubt  that  Flossy 
would  learn  better  in  time,  and  she  would 
have  patience  with  him. 


V. 


THE   colonel: S  STORT, 


jN  Sunday  morning  Maggie  and  Bessie 
were  made  ready,  and  taken  over  to 
Mrs.  Rush's  rooms  at  nine  o'clock,  as  had 
been  arranged.  As  Maggie  Iiad  told  Mr. 
Hall,  Mrs.  Rush  could  not  leave  the  colonel  to 
go  to  the  church  school ;  but  she  was  very 
anxious  to  do  something  for  the  lambs  of  the 
Good  Shepherd,  who  had  so  lately  brought 
her  dear  husband  into  the  fold,  and  so  she 
had  begged  that  these  little  ones  might  come 
to  her.  Mrs.  Bradford  was  very  glad  to  have 
her  Ciiildren  go.  Bessie  had  never  been  to 
Sunday-scliool,  and  her  mother  thought  the 
walk  too  much  for  her  on  a  cold  day  ;  but 
Mrs.  Rush's  rooms  were  so  near   their  own 


The   Colonel's  Story,  105 

home  that  she  could  go  there  in  almost  any 
weather.  As  for  Maggie,  she  was  rather  glad 
not  to  go  back  to  the  church  school.  Uer 
teacher,  Miss  Winslow,  was  going  away,  as 
you  know,  and  she  did  not  at  all  like  the  idea 
of  having  a  new  one. 

"  I  should  be  so  very  homesick  after  Miss 
Winslow,  mamma,"  she  had  said,  "but  now  I 
shall  not  mind  that  so  much ;  and  then  Bessie 
will  be  with  me,  so  we  will  be  very  happy.'* 

Truly  it  was  a  pleasant  class.  Four  little 
girls  who  dearly  loved  each  other,  and  the 
sweet  young  lady  who  was  to  be  their  teacher. 
Then  the  room  was  so  bright  and  sunny,  and 
the  colonel,  to  please  his  wife  and  her  little 
scholars,  perhaps  also  to  please  himself,  had 
taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  have  all  nicely 
prepared  for  them.  Four  small  cane-seated 
chairs  stood  side  by  side,  and  on  each  of  them 
lay  a  Testament  and  a  hymn-book,  while  ou 


io6  Bessie  in  the   City, 

the  table  were  a  number  of  picture-cards  and 
a  neat  case  containing  a  dozen  books,  which 
were  to  be  their  library. 

"When  these  are  all  read,"  said  the  colonel, 
"  they  shall  have  some  more." 

There  was  only  one  thing  which  seemed 
wrong,  but  that  was  rather  serious.  The  dear 
teacher  appeared  as  if  she  would  scarcely  be 
able  to  do  her  part  that  morning.  Mrs.  Rush 
had  taken  a  severe  cold,  and  had  a  bad  head- 
ache and  a  sore  throat.  She  looked  quite  ill, 
and  when  Mr.  Bradford,  wlio  had  brought  the 
little  girls  over,  shook  hands  with  her,  he  said, 
"  I  think  you  are  in  no  fit  state  for  teaching 
to-day.  You  had  better  let  me  take  the 
children  home,  and  make  a  beginning  next 
Sunday." 

"  So  I  have  told  her,"  said  Colonel  Rush ; 
^'  but  she  cannot  bear  to  disappoint  herself 
or  them,  and  I  have  agreed  to  let  her  try,  on 


The   (^oloners  Story.  107 

condition  that,  if  she  find  it  too  much  for  her, 
I  am  to  take  her  place.  I  do  not  know  what 
kind  of  a  teacher  I  shall  make,  but,  at  least, 
I  can  tell  them  a  story." 

Mrs.  Rush  said  she  thought  she  should  do 
very  well;  so  Mr.  Bradford  went  away,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  Gracie  Howard  and  Lily 
Norris  came  in,  and  they  all  took  their  seats. 
Colonel  Rush  went  into  the  inner  room,  where 
he  could  not  be  seen,  but  where  he  could  hear 
if  he  chose ;  and  his  wife  began. 

First,  she  made  a  short  prayer,  asking  our 
Father  in  heaven  to  bless  them  with  his 
presence  and  his  love,  that  he  would  give  her 
strength  and  grace  to  teach  these  lambs 
aright,  and  to  them,  hearts  gentle  and  tender, 
and  ready  to  learn  the  way  of  life,  and  that 
he  would  bring  them  all  at  last  to  dwell  with 
him  in  his  home  beyond  the  sky.  Then  she 
read  to  them  of  Christ  blessing  little  children, 


Io8  Bessie  in  the   City, 

and,  showing  them  a  card  on  which  a  picture 
of  this  was  painted,  talked  to  them  about  it. 

"  Now  we  will  sing,"  she  said,  "  or  rather 
you  may,  for  I  shall  not  be  able  to  help  you. 
We  will  take  something  you  all  know  quite 
well,  that  there  may  be  no  difficulty  about  the 
tune.  '  I  want  to  be  an  angel.'  Who  will 
start  it  ? " 

Any  one  of  the  children,  if  she  liad  been 
alone,  could  have  started  the  tune  and  sung 
it  througli  without  trouble  ;  but  with  all  the 
rest  waiting,  not  one  felt  as  if  she  could 
begin.  They  all  sat  looking  at  one  another, 
each  little  girl  afraid  to  trust  her  own  voice. 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  "  are  we  to  have 
no  singing  at  all  ?  Cannot  one  of  you  do 
it?" 

Then  came  two  or  three  notes  from  tlie 
other  room.  Bessie  took  them  right  up,  and 
the   rest   followed  immediately.     As  soon   as 


The    ColoneVs  Story,  109 

they  were  fairly  started,  the  colonel  paused, 
and  let  them  sing  it  through  by  themselves. 
Very  nicely  they  did  it,  too ;  their  sweet 
young  voices  making  pleasant  music  in  the 
ears  of  their  kind  friends. 

''  I  want  you  each  to  learn  a  new  hymn 
and  a  Bible  verse,  during  the  week,  to  say  to 
me  next  Sunday,"  said  Mrs.  Rush.  "  We 
have  had  no  regular  lesson  for  to-day.  Can 
you  not  each  remember  a  hymn  to  repeat 
now  ?  " 

"  I'll  say,  '  Saviour,  like  a  shepherd  lead 
us,' "  said  Gracie  ;  and  she  repeated  the  hymn 
very  correctly. 

Lily  said,  "  Little  travellers,  Zionward  ;  '^ 
but,  as  you  probably  know  both  of  these  pretty 
pieces,  there  is  no  need  to  write  them  here. 

Bessie  said  the  verses  about  the  lamb,  which 
she  had  repeated  to  Grandpapa  Duncan  at 
Riverside. 


no  Bessie  in  the   City. 

Maggie's  turn  came  last.  "  I  am  going  to 
say  tlie  very  best  hymn  that  ever  was  made," 
she  said. 

"  How  do  you  know  it  is  the  very  best  ?  " 
said  Gracie.  "  Maybe  it  isn't  so  pretty  as  the 
one  Bessie  said.     I  like  that  very  much." 

"  So  do  I ;  but  then  this  one  is  the  best,  for 
my  own  mamma  made  it,"  answered  Mag- 
gie, as  if  there  could  be  no  doubt  after  this 
that  her  hymn  was  the  best  that  could  be 
written. 

Gracie  opened  her  eyes  wide,  and  listened 
with  all  her  might.  To  have  a  mamma  who 
wrote  hymns,  must,  she  thought,  be  very  fine, 
and  she  did  not  wonder  that  Maggie  felt 
rather  proud  of  it. 

"Shall  I  say  it?"  asked  Maggie  of  Mrs. 
Rush. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  lady ;  and  Maggie 
began. 


The   Colon cVs  Story,  iit 

"  Little  one,  what  canst  thou  do, 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  thee  so, 
That  he  left  his  heavenly  throne, 
To  our  sinful  world  came  down. 
On  the  cross  to  faint  and  die, 
That  thy  ransomed  soul  might  Ajf 
Far  beyond  all  sin  and  pain, 
"Where  the  Crucified  doth  reign? 

*'  Little  hands,  what  can  ye  do 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  me  so  ? 

**  Little  hands  fit  work  may  find, 
If  I  have  a  willing  mind ; 
And  whate'er  the  service  small, 
If  I  only  do  it  all 
For  the  sake  of  God's  dear  Son, 
He  the  simplest  gift  will  own. 
Little  hands,  so  ye  may  prove 
All  my  gratitude  and  love. 

"  Little  lips,  what  can  ye  do 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  me  so  « 

**  Let  no  harsh  or  angry  word 
From  these  little  lips  be  heard  ; 
Let  them  never  take  in  vain 
God's  most  glorious,  holy  name 


112  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Let  sweet  sounds  of  praise  and  joy 
All  your  childish  powers  employ. 
Little  lips,  so  ye  may  prove 
All  my  gratitude  and  love. 

"  Little  feet,  what  can  ye  do 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  me  so  ? 

"  Follow  Him  who  day  by  day 
Guides  thee  on  the  heavenward  way. 
Little  feet,  turn  not  aside, 
Tread  down  shame  and  fear  and  pride, 
Aught  might  tempt  yie  to  go  back 
From  the  safe  and  narrow  track. 
Little  feet,  so  ye  may  prove 
All  my  gratitude  and  love. 

"  Little  heart,  what  canst  thou  do 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  me  so  ? 

"  Thou  canst  love  Mm,  little  heart, 
Such  thy  blessed,  happy  part. 
In  his  tender  arms  may  rest, 
Lying  there  content  and  blest. 
This  is  all  he  asks  of  thee, 
'  Little  heart,  oh !  lovest  thou  me  ? 
Little  heart,  so  thou  mayst  prove 

.  All  my  gratitude  and  love. 


The   ColoneVs  Story.  113 

**  Little  one,  tliis  thou  canst  do 
For  the  Lord  who  loved  thee  so. 
Little  hands  and  little  feet 
Still  may  render  service  meet ; 
Little  lips  and  little  heart 
In  such  glorious  vrork  bear  part. 
Little  one,  thus  thou  niayst  prove 
All  thy  gratitude  and  love." 

**01i,  bow  nice!"  said  Gracie ;  and  Lily 
said  the  same  thing. 

"  And  mamma  is  going  to  make  music  for 
it,"  said  Bessie,  "  so  we  can  sing  it." 

"  Then  we  will  all  learn  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Rush.  *'  We  shall  have  a  piano  here  next 
Sunday,  and  there  need  be  no  more  trouble 
about  our  tunes.  Now  I  will  tell  you  a  little 
story." 

But  when  she  began  to  talk  again,  she  was 
BO  hoarse  that  she  could  scarcely  speak,  and 
the  children  saw  that  her  throat  was  very 
painful.  , 

8 


11^  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  Don't  try  to  tell  us ;  you  feel  too  sick," 
said  Bessie.  "  We'll  just  sit  still,  and  bo  aa 
quite  as  mices." 

Mrs.  Rush  smiled  at  her,  and  tried  once 
more  to  go  on,  but  just  then  the  sound  of  the 
colonel's  crutches  was  heard,  and  the  next 
moment  he  came  in  the  room. 

"  1  cannot  let  you  go  on,  Marion,"  said  he. 
"  I  will  take  your  place.  Can  you  put  up 
with  a  story  from  me,  little  ones,  while  my 
wife  rests  ?  She  is  able  to  do  no  more  for  you 
to-day." 

Put  up  with  a  story  from  him  !  That  was 
a  curious  question  from  the  colonel,  who  was 
such  a  famous  story-teller.  They  were  all 
quite  ready  to  listen  to  anything  he  might  tell 
them,  though  they  felt  very  sorry  for  dear 
Mrs.  Rush,  who,  seeming  rather  glad  to  give 
her  place  to  her  husband,  went  to  the  other 
side   of  the   room   and  took  the   great  arm- 


The   ColoneVs  Story,  115 

chair,  while  the  colonel  settled  himself  on  tho 
sofa. 

Bessie  looked  at  him  very  wistfully. 

"Well,  what  is  it,  my  pet?"  he  asked. 

"Don't  you  think  you'd  be  more  comfor' 
ble  if  I  was  on  the  sofa  by  you  ?  "  she  asked. 
"I  am  sure  I  would." 

"  Indeed,  I  should,"  he  answered,  holding 
out  his  hand  with  a  smile,  and  in  a  moment 
she  was  in  her  favorite  seat  beside  him. 

He  told  the  others  to  stand  around  him, 
and  commenced  his  story. 

"  A  little  child  sat  upon  a  green  sunny 
bank,  singing  to  himself  in  a  low,  sweet  voice. 
It  was  not  easy  to  understand  the  words  of 
the  song ;  indeed,  there  did  nol;  seem  to  be 
much  wisdom  in  them.  It  was  as  if  he  were 
only  pouring  out  in  music  the  joy  of  his  own 
young,  happy  heart. 

"  It  was  a  lovely  place.     The  bank  on  which 


Il6  Bessie  in  the   City, 

the  child  rested  was  covered  with  a  soft  green 
moss,  while  around  him  bloomed  sweet  flow- 
ers, blue  violets  peeping  up  from  their  nest  of 
leaves,  and  filling  the  air  with  their  delicious 
scent,  pure  lilies  of  the  valley  with  their 
snowy  bells,  and  the  pale  pink  primroses. 
Overhead  grew  tall  trees,  shading  him  from  the 
rays  of  the  sun  which  might  else  have  beat  too 
strongly  on  his  tender  head  ;  and  among  their 
branches  the  soft  winds  whispered  and  the 
birds  sang  joyfully.  At  the  foot  of  the  bank 
was  a  path  bordered  with  lovely  ferns  and 
grasses  and  flowers,  such  as  grew  above  ;  and 
beyond  this  again  ran  a  little  stream  sparkling 
in  the  sunlight,  and  gurgling  and  rippling  over 
and  around  the  stones  and  pebbles  which  lay 
in  its  way.  And  all  —  the  boy,  the  birds,  the 
whispering  leaves,  the  sweet  flowers,  the  run- 
ning brook  —  seemed  joining  in  one  hymn  of 


The   ColoneVs  Story,  117 

praise  to  Him  who  made  them  and  gave  them 
life. 

"  On  the  other  side  of  the  brook,  and  in  a 
line  with  the  narrow  path,  ran  a  broad  road, 
on  which  also  grew  flowers  gayer  and  brighter 
than  those  wliose  home  was  upon  the  bank  or 
on  the  path ;  but  when  one  came  nearer,  or 
tried  to  pluck  them,  they  were  found  to  be 
full  of  thorns,  or  turned  to  dust  and  ashes  in 
the  hand. 

'-'-  Both  road  and  path  seemed  to  lead  to  the 
mountains,  which  lay  in  the  distance ;  but  it 
was  not  really  so.  There  were  many  windings 
and  turnings  in  both,  so  that  one  who  travelled 
upon  them  could  not  see  far  before  him.  Some- 
times they  would  lead  over  a  hill,  sometimes 
around  its  foot,  sometimes  through  a  forest, 
sometimes  through  a  bog  or  stream.  Those 
who  became  puzzled  upon  the  broad  road 
would  lose  their  way  and  could  seldom  find 


Il8  Bessie  tn  the   City, 

either  track  again  ;  for  there  was  nothing  to 
guide  them,  and  they  would  go  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  dark  woods  or  the  treacherous 
bog,  or  perhaps  fall  into  some  deep  pit,  and  so 
they  were  never  seen  again.  But  if  one  who 
travelled  upon  the  narrow  path  was  in  doubt 
whether  he  were  right  or  no,  he  had  only  to 
lift  his  eyes,  and  the  true  way  would  be 
pointed  out  to  him  ;  for  all  along  were  guide- 
posts,  and  upon  them  were  golden  letters  which 
shone  so  brightly  that  he  who  ran  might  read  ; 
and  they  told  him  which  turning  he  must 
take.  By  the  side  of  the  path  there  ran  also 
a  silver  thread,  and  he  who  kept  fast  hold  of 
this  could  seldom  or  never  go  astray ;  for  if 
he  was  about  to  turn  aside,  fine  points  or 
thorns  would  rise  up  in  the  thread  and,  prick- 
ing him,  bid  him  take  heed  to  his  steps.  But 
however  the  path  might  wind,  in  and  out, 
now  here,  now  there,  it  still  led  onward  to 


The   ColoneVs  Story,  ,  119 

the  mountains  whose  tops  were  to  be  seen 
in  a  straight  line  with  the  child's  home  ;  and 
he  who  followed  it  could  not  fail  to  come 
there. 

"  The  child  was  still  singing,  wlien  a  stranger 
came  up  this  path.  He  stood  still  and  looked 
at  the  boy  with  a  smile,  as  though  the  simple 
song  pleased  him. 

"  '  What  is  thy  name,  little  one  ? '  he  asked. 

"  *  Benito,'  answered  the  child. 

"  '  Ah  !  thou  art  well  named,  for  truly  thou 
art  a  blessed  child.  What  a  lovely  home  thou 
hast ! ' 

"  '  But  this  is  not  my  home,'  said  Benito. 
'  My  Father  placed  me  here  for  a  little  while, 
but  my  home  lies  far  away  on  the  mountains 
yonder  where  he  is.  There  is  a  beautiful  city 
there,  where  my  Elder  Brother  has  gone  to 
prepare  a  place  for  me.  Stay ; '  and  the  child 
put  his  hand  into  his  bosom  and  drew  out  a 


I20  Bessie  in  the  City, 

glass ;  '  look  through  this,  and  then  thou 
wilt  see  the  beautiful  city  ;  thou  mayest  even 
see  my  Father's  house.  This  glass  is  called 
Faith,  and  my  Brother  bade  me  look  through 
it  when  my  feet  were  tired  and  my  heart  was 
faint.' 

"  The  stranger  took  it  from  his  hand,  and 
looking  through  it,  gave  a  glad  cry  of  sur- 
prise ;  then  took  from  his  own  breast  a  glass 
like  the  boy's,  but  not  so  fresh  and  bright. 

"  '  I,  too,  have  a  glass,'  he  said  ;  '  but  it  is 
not  so  clear  as  thine.  It  is  my  own  fault,  for 
it  needs  constant  use  to  keep  it  pure  and  un- 
dimmed,  and  I  have  not  brought  it  forth  as 
often  as  I  sliould  have  done.  But  now  the 
oeautiful  sight  which  I  have  seen  through 
thine  has  taught  me  what  I  lose  by  letting  it 
lie  hidden  away.  And  when  art  thou  to  go  to 
thy  Father's  house  ? ' 

" '  Now,'  said  Benito, '  for  the  message  has 


The   ColoneVs  Story,  I2I 

come  for  me,  and  I  am  to  start  to-day  upon 
the  very  path  on  which  thou  standest.' 

"  '  But  it  will  be  a  hard  way  for  thee,'  said 
the  stranger,  in  a  pitying  voice.  *  I  am  taller 
than  thee,  and  can  look  farther  ahead,  and  I 
see  rocks  and  stones  which  will  hurt  those 
tender  feet,  and  hills  which  will  be  difficult 
for  thee  to  climb,  and  streams  whose  waves 
will  be  almost  too  much  for  thee.  Wait  till 
thou  art  a  little  stronger  and  more  able  to 
travel.'  ' 

" '  I  cannot  wait,'  said  Benito  ;  *  I  have 
heard  my  Father's  voice,  and  I  must  not  stay.' 

"  '  And  hast  thou  food  and  drink  for  the 
journey  ?  ' 

"  '  My  Father  has  promised  that  I  shall  be 
fed  with  the  bread  of  life,  and  drink  from 
living  waters.' 

"  '  But  that  white  robe  of  thine  will  become 
soiled  with  the  dust  and  heat  of  the  day.' 


122  Bessie  tn  the   City. 

''  *  This  white  robe  is  called  Innocence,'  said 
the  child.  '  Mj  Father  clothed  me  in  it  when 
he  left  me  here  ;  and  if  it  should  become 
spotted  by  the  way,  he  has  said  that  it  shall 
be  washed  white  again  before  I  go  into  his 
presence.' 

" '  Truly  thou  hast  made  good  use  of  thy 
glass,'  said  the  stranger;  '  and  thine  own  cour- 
age puts  my  fears  for  thee  to  shame.  I,  too,  am 
bound  for  the  mountains,  for  thy  Father  is  my 
Father,  thy  home  my  home.  Come,  shall  we 
journey  there  together  ?  We  may  perhaps  aid 
one  another.  I  can  help  thee  over  the  rough 
places ;  and  thou  mayest  now  and  then  let  me 
take  a  look  through  thy  glass  till  mine  own  is 
brighter  with  more  frequent  use.' 

" '  I  will  go  with  thee,'  said  Benito,  who 
liked  the  kind,  gentle  face  of  the  stranger ; 
and  coming  down  from  his  mossy  seat,  he  put 


The   ColoneVs  Story.  123 

his  hand  in  that  of  his  new  friend,  who  told 
him  his  name  was  Experience. 

"  '  Men  call  me  a  hard  teacher,  my  child,'  he 
said  ;  '  I  trust  I  may  be  gentle  with  thee.  1 
shall  not  be  able  to  be  always  at  thy  side,  for 
I  may  have  work  to  do  which  thou  canst  not 
share,  and  I  may  leave  thee  for  a  time  ;  but  1 
will  always  await  thee  or  follow  on  after  thee.' 

"  Experience  was  a  grave-looking  man,  and 
his  face  had  a  sad  and  weary  look  as  though 
he  longed  for  home  and  rest.  But  he  had 
always  a  smile  for  the  child  when  he  turned 
towards  him.  His  dress  was  of  gray,  and 
about  his  neck  he  wore  a  chain  of  golden 
beads.  So  they  journeyed  on  together,  the 
man  and  the  boy ;  each  with  a  hand  upon 
the  silver  thread  which  ran  by  the  wayside. 

"  '  What  is  tliat  chain  about  thy  neck  ?  * 
asked  Benito. 

"  '  It  is  the  gift  I  carry  to  our  Father,'  said 


124  Bessie  m  the   City. 

Experience,  looking  down  witli  a  smile  at  tlio 
chain. 

^* '  I  have  no  gift,'  said  the  child  ;  '  I  did  not 
know  that  I  should  need  one.  My  Elder 
Brother  told  me  he  had  paid  the  price  which 
should  give  me  entrance  to  the  beautiful  city.' 

"  '  He  has  done  so,'  said  the  other,  '  and 
though  thou  goest  with  empty  hands,  thou 
shalt  have  as  loving  a  welcome  as  if  thou 
liadst  all  the  wealth  of  the  universe  to  offer. 
But  still,  one  would  wish  to  have  some  gift 
to  lay  at  our  Father's  feet.  Perhaps  thou 
mayest  find  some  jewel  on  the  road.  I  had 
nothing  when  I  started.  These  beads  have 
been  given  to  me,  one  by  one,  by  those  whom 
I  have  helped  or  taught  by  the  way ;  for,  lit- 
tle one,  thou  art  not  the  first  whose  hand  has 
been  laid  in  mine ;  and  I  have  strung  them 
together  as  a  fit  offering  for  him  to  whom  we 
go-' 


The   Colonel  s  Story,  125 

"  *  I  have  no  bead  to  give,'  said  Benito, 
sadly. 

"  '  No  matter ;  that  white  robe  of  thine  gives 
thee  a  claim  upon  mj  care,  which  I  could  not 
set  aside  if  I  would.  Cheer  up,  sweet  child. 
If  a  jewel  fell  in  thy  way,  and  thou  didst  not 
stop  to  pick  it  up,  that  thou  mightst  carry  it  to 
our  Father,  then  indeed  there  would  be  reason 
to  fear  his  displeasure,  but  if  thou  findest 
none,  he  will  ask  none.' 

"  So  Benito  was  comforted,  and  once  more 
went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  His  sweet  talk 
cheered  the  older  pilgrim,  and  every  now  and 
then  they  would  both  break  out  into  songs  of 
praise  and  joy.  Experience  helped  the  little 
one  over  many  rough  places,  for  though  the 
path  was  at  first  easy  and  pleasant,  it  soon 
grew  hard  and  stony.  Then  they  passed 
through  a  dark  forest,  where  Benito  could 
scarcely  have  kept  his  feet  but  for  the  help  of 


126 


Bessie  in  the   City. 


his  older  and  wiser  friend,  who  took  him  in 
liis  arms  until  they  were  again  upon  the  open 
road.  But  even  among  the  hrambles  and 
thickets  of  the  forest  the  way  was  plain,  if 
they  but  looked  up  at  the  guide-posts  ;  for 
the  greater  the  darkness,  the  brighter  shone 
the  letters. 


VI. 

THE  STORT  CONTINUED. 

HEY  journeyed  on  till  they  came  to  a 
grotto  built  upon  the  side  of  the  path, 
and  Experience  said,  'It  is  now  the  seventh 
hour,  and  we  may  turn  in  here  for  food  and 
drink.' 

"  So  they  went  into  the  grotto,  where  were 
many  other  pilgrims,  and  were  fed  with  the 
bread  of  life,  and  drank  of  living  waters,  so 
that  they  were  strengthened  for  the  rest  of 
the  journey.  And  this  food  they  received 
from  the  hands  of  two  soldiers,  —  an  old  man 
and  a  young  one, — both  of  whom  were  in 
shining  armor,  with  a  white  cross  upon  the 
shoulder,  and  upon  the  breast  of  each  hung  a 
string  of  jewels,  so  bright  that  the  eye  could 
scarcely  rest  upon  them. 


128  Bessie  in  the   City* 

"  *  Did  they  find  those  jewels  by  the  way  ?  ' 
Benito  asked  of  his  friend. 

"  '  Yes/  answered  Experience.  '  The  jew- 
els are  souls  that  have  been  saved  by  the  food 
which  our  Father  taught  these  soldiers  to 
serve.' 

" '  And  see,'  said  the  child,  *  there  is  an- 
other pilgrim  with  a  shining  star  about  his 
neck.' 

"  '  He  started  upon  his  journey  with  much 
gold,'  said  Experience.  *  And  he  made  good 
use  of  it ;  building  such  grottos  as  this, 
where  tired  pilgrims  might  rest  and  be  fed, 
and  others  where  the  sick  and  lame  might  be 
healed.  And  he  did  this,  not  for  his  own 
glory,  but  for  love  of  Him  whose  children  he 
rejoiced  to  help.  So  the  gold  has  come  back 
to  him  in  the  form  of  this  star,  which  he  may 
offer  to  his  Master.' 

"  And    as   the    little    one    looked    around 


The  Story   Continued,  129 

among  the  pilgrims,  ho  saw  that  most  of  them 
had  some  gift  which  they  were  taking  to  their 
Father;  and  his  own  heart  grew  sad  again, 
for  he  had  as  yet  found  none,  though  he  had 
looked  carefully  by  tlie  way. 

"  When  the  seventh  hour  had  gone  by, 
the  pilgrims  all  went  forth  on  their  journey 
again.  Some  kept  near  Benito  and  Expe- 
rience, others  passed  far  ahead,  and  some  few 
were  left  behind.  But  the  two  soldiers  were 
always  near ;  for  as  Experience  walked  slowly, 
so  that  he  might  help  the  little  one  whose 
hand  lay  in  his,  so  the  younger  soldier  also 
held  back,  that  he  might  lend  his  arm  to  aid 
the  feeble  steps  of  the  older. 

"  They  now  came  to  a  black  bog  where  the 

guide-post  pointed  to  a  narrow  bridge  which 

led  them  safely  over  it.     But  from  the  midst 

of  the  bog  came  terrible  cries.     '  Come  and 

help  us,  for  we  have  lost  our  way ;  and  if  we 
0 


130  Bessie  in  the   City, 

are  not  set  right,  we  shall  never  reach  our 
home.' 

"  Then  the  two  soldiers  said  they  must  go 
and  help  the  poor  lost  ones,  and  Experience 
said  he  would  go  with  them. 

" '  For  the  path  is  pretty  plain  for  some 
distance  now,'  he  said  to  Benito,  '  and  I 
think  thou  couldst  walk  by  thyself  for  a  while. 
Only  from  time  to  time  look  at  the  guide- 
posts,  and  be  sure  to  keep  fast  hold  upon  the 
silver  thread.'  Then  he  left  him  to  go  with 
the  soldiers. 

"  So  the  boy  went  on  by  himself,  watching 
carefully  for  the  jewel  he  hoped  to  find.  And 
as  he  looked,  a  poor  lame  bird  hopped  upon 
his  path.  The  broad  road  was  very  near  to 
the  narrow  one  in  this  spot,  and  walking  upon 
it  were  many  children  and  older  people.  These 
children  had  long  been  calling  to  Benito,  telling 
him  to  come  where  the  ground  was  soft  and 


The  Story   Continued,  131 

easy  to  walk  upon,  and  where  he  might  play 
all  the  day  long  if  he  chose.  But  Benito 
would  not  listen,  for  Experience  had  told  him 
to  close  his  ears  ;  and  besides  he  had  the  com- 
mand of  his  Elder  Brother  that  he  should  set 
his  feet  on  the  narrow  path. 

"  The  bird  was  a  poor,  half-starved  looking 
thing,  with  a  broken  wing  ;  for  tliese  cruel 
children  had  caught  it,  and  after  teasing  and 
tormenting  it  for  a  long  while,  had  stoned  it. 
It  had  at  last  escaped  them,  and  fluttering 
across  the  stream  which  divided  the  roads, 
fell  at  Benito's  feet. 

"The  boy  raised  it  gently,  b'ound  up  the 
broken  wing,  and  gathering  some  of  the  grass 
which  grew  by  the  wayside,  made  for  the  bird 
a  soft  nest.  Then  taking  from  his  bosom  a 
piece  of  bread,  given  to  him  by  the  old  soldier 
lest  he  should  be  hungry,  he  fed  it  with  some 


132  Bessie  in  the   City. 

crumbs,  brought  it  water  from  the  stream,  and 
left  it  there  in  comfort  and  safety. 

"  On  he  went,  wishing  for  his  friends,  and 
still  looking  for  the  jewel.  Suddenly  he  saw 
before  him  a  beautiful  butterfly,  with  wings 
of  crimsom,  blue,  and  gold.  It  flew  gayly 
about  him,  now  lighting  on  his  shoulder,  now 
circling  round  his  head;  but  never  coming 
where  he  might  lay  his  hand  upon  it. 

"  '  What  a  lovely  thing  ! '  he  said  to  himself. 
'  If  I  may  but  catch  it,  I  will  take  it  to  my 
Father.' 

"  The  butterfly  lighted  upon  a  flower,  and 
the  child  sprang  after  it.  Away  it  flew  to  an- 
other, and  he  followed,  still  to  miss  it.  On 
they  went,  from  flower  to  flower,  until  it 
reached  the  stream,  and  flying  across,  lit  upon 
a  showy  tulip,  just  upon  the  farther  side.  Be- 
nito hesitated  and  drew  back,  for  the  insect 
was   now   upon   the  forbidden  road,   and   he 


The  Story   Continued.  133 

feared  to  disobey.  But  there  was  the  butter 
fly  fluttering  its  lovely  wings  in  the  sunlight , 
the  stream  looked  narrow  here,  he  could  reach 
the  prize,  and  be  back  in  an  instant.  He 
should  be  so  glad  to  show  it  to  his  friends 
when  they  joined  him  again.  As  he  thought 
thus,  he  loosened  a  little  his  grasp  upon  the 
silver  thread,  and  instantly  small  prickles 
started  up  upon  it,  reminding  him  of  his  duty  ; 
but  he  looked  again  at  the  butterfly,  and  then, 
forgetting  all  else,  let  go  his  hold  altogether, 
sprang  across  the  stream,  and  once  more 
reached  forth  his  hand.  Again  the  butterfly 
fluttered  off"  a  little  farther,  this  time  burying 
itself  in  the  very  heart  of  a  lovely  flower. 

"  '  Ah,  I  have  thee  now,'  said  Benito,  and, 
springing  forward,  his  hand  closed  upon  the 
blossom.  But  he  instantly  drew  it  back,  cry- 
ing aloud  with  pain,  for  sharp  nettles  ran 
themselves  into  his  tende:  palm,  and  the  but- 


134  Bessie  in  the   City, 

tcrflj  suddenly  changed  into  an  ugly  creeping 
tiling.  He  heard  around  liim  mocking  laugh- 
ter and  loud,  angry  cries,  and,  terrified,  he 
turned  to  go  back.  But  he  found  himself  in 
a  bog  where  his  feet  sank  deeper  and  deeper, 
and  his  white  dress  became  soiled  and  spotted. 
When  he  looked  towards  the  stream,  its 
waters  had  become  black  and  muddy,  and  a 
fog  hung  over  it  so  that  he  could  not  see  the 
narrow  path.  He  drew  his  glass  from  his 
bosom,  but  alas  it  was  so  clouded  that  he 
could  not  see  through  it,  and  then  he  cried 
aloud  in  his  pain  and  grief.  Suddenly  there 
same  a  voice  from  beyond  the  mist,  — 

*' '  Step  boldly  into  the  stream,  my  child  , 
these  are  the  healing  waters  of  Repentance 
and  Confession,  and  thou  shalt  pass  safely 
through  them  to  the  true  way  once  more.' 

'•  Benito  hesitated  no  longer,  but  plunged 
bravely  into  the  muddy  stream.     And  behold 


The  Story   Continued.  135 

the  mist  lifted  at  once,  tlie  waters  became 
clear,  and  he  saw  upon  the  opposite  bank  the 
older  soldier,  who  held  out  his  hand  to  him. 
The  child  grasped  it,  and  in  another  moment, 
he  stood  safe,  but  weak  and  trembling  beside 
his  friend ;  and  as  he  looked  down  in  fear  and 
distress,  lest  his  dress  were  not  fit  for  such 
company,  he  saw  it  was  white  and  pure  again, 
cleansed  by  the  waters  through  which  he  had 
passed. 

"  Then  came  Experience  and  bound  up 
the  little  bleeding  hands,  and  replacing  one 
upon  the  silver  thread,  took  the  other  in  his 
own. 

"  '  I  wished  to  carry  the  beautiful  insect  to 
my  Father,  that  he  might  know  I  thought  of 
him  on  the  way,'  sobbed  tlie  child. 

"  '  That  butterfly  is  called  Temptation,  be- 
loved,' said  the  old  soldier,  'and  could  not 
fail  to  lead  thee  astray  if  thou  didst  pursue  her. 


136  Bessie  in  the   City. 

She  has  many  ways  of  deceiving  tliosc  whom 
she  would  lead  into  sin;  and,  seeing  tlio 
strong  wish  of  thy  young  heart  to  gain  some 
gift  which  thou  mightest  carry  to  thy  Father, 
she  took  that  very  means  to  draw  thee  aside 
from  the  path  of  duty.' 

"The  little  one  sighed,  for  his  heart  was 
sad,  not  as  much  for  the  pain  he  had  suffered 
as  for  his  bitter  disappointment.  After  a  lit- 
tle, he  thought  of  his  glass,  and  drawing  it 
forth,  found  it  bright  and  undimmed  as  it  had 
been  when  he  started.  Then  he  grew  happy 
again,  and  was  going  on  his  way  singing,  when 
he  saw  a  boy,  smaller  than  himself,  sitting  by 
the  wayside,  weeping. 

"  Benito  ran  up  to  him.  '  What  ailctli 
thee  ? '  lie  asked. 

'' '  Ah  ! '  said  tlie  boy,  '  my  sister  and  I  were 
going  home,  hand  in  hand,  and  we  were  so 
happy,  for  we  loved  one  another  dearly ;  but 


The  Story   Continued,  137 

a  shining  angel  came   and  carried  licr  frora 
nij  sight,  and  now  I  am  alone.' 

"  Then  Benito  drew  the  other's  head  upon 
his  breast,  and  kissed  him  and  wept  with  hiiii, 
and  spoke  tender  words  to  him,  so  that  tlie 
child  was  comforted.  Then  they  went  on  to- 
gether, but  they  had  gone  but  a  few  steps 
when  the  shining  angel  came  again,  and  tak 
ing  Benito's  new  friend  in  his  arms,  carried 
him  away  also.  He  smiled  sweetly  on  Benito 
as  he  passed  out  of  sight,  and  our  young  pil- 
grim felt  a  great  joy  in  his  heart  to  think  that 
he  had  given  comfort  to  the  little  stranger. 

"  A  short  distance  farther  on,  the  travellers 
overtook  an  old  woman,  bending  beneath  the 
weight  of  a  heavy  burden  which  she  carried. 
She  seemed  very  feeble,  and  Benito  was 
grieved  for  her  as  he  saw  how  she  tottered 
and  how  liard  it  was  for  her  to  bear  up  be 
aeath  her  load.     She   was  faint  and  hungry 


fjS  Bessie  in  the  City, 

toOj  and  at  every  step  it  appeared  as  if  she 
must  sink  down. 

"  '  Can  I  not  help  thee  ?  '  asked  Benito. 

"  'Dear  cliild  ! '  said  the  old  dame.  '  How 
can  those  tiny  hands  help  to  bear  a  burden 
such  as  mine  ?  '  ~ 

"  '  I  can  try,'  said  Benito.  '  Lay  a  part  of 
it  upon  my  shoulders.  I  will  take  all  I  can  to 
lighten  thine.  And  see,  take  this ;  it  will 
strengthen  thee  for  the  rest  of  the  journey ; ' 
and  he  handed  her  the  piece  of  bread  which 
the  soldier  had  given  for  his  own  needs. 

"  The  dame  took  it  and  eat,  and  strength 
came  to  her  as  the  boy  had  said  ;  and  as  he  tried 
to  bear  upon  his  shoulders  a  part  of  her  load, 
she,  too,  shed  tears  which  fell  upon  his  bosom 
as  she  leaned  over  him.  But  they  were  tears 
of  gratitude  and  blessing,  and  did  her  good ; 
so  that  after  this  she  went  on  her  way  with 
more  comfort. 


The  Story   Continued.  139 

**And  now  the  day  was  drawing  to  its  close, 
the  sun  was  setting,  and  the  end  of  their 
journey  was  near ;  for  the  pilgrims  could 
plainly  see  the  river  which  lay  between  them 
and  the  mountains  where  their  Father  dwelt. 
But  just  on  the  nearer  side  of  the  river  rose  a 
high  hill,  and  on  it  was  a  castle,  where  lived  a 
cruel  robber  named  Doubt,  who  often  came 
down  and  dragged  many  pilgrims  up  to  his 
castle  just  when  they  were  in  sight  of  their 
home.  When  the  soldiers  saw  this,  they  said 
there  was  one  more  fight  to  make  before  they 
crossed  the  river,  and  again  Experience  went 
with  them,  leaving  the  child  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  and  telling  him  that  if  he  were  frightened, 
or  if  the  robber  came  to  carry  him  away,  he  had 
only  to  gaze  through  his  glass  at  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river  and  all  fear  and  danger 
would  pass  away. 

"  So  the  three  went  up  the  hill,  and  the  child 


i^o  Bessie  in  the   City*^ 

sat  down  to  await  their  return.  As  ho  sat 
there,  he  looked  at  the  river  and  was  afraid,  for 
he  tlioiight,  ^  How  can  such  a  little  one  as  1 
pass  through  those  deep  waters  ?  The  waves 
will  be  too  strong  for  me,  and  will  carry  me 
away.' 

"Then  he  remembered  what  Experience  had 
told  him,  and  looking  through  his  glass,  he 
saw  that  the  waves  were  so  shallow  that  they 
would  scarcely  wet  his  feet ;  and  on  the  other 
side  rose  his  Father's  house,  so  beautiful,  so 
glorious,  tliat  he  cried  aloud  with  joy  and 
with  longing  to  pass  the  river  and  be  there. 

"  But  now  he  found  he  was  not  to  sit  still, 
for  as  the  fight  went  on  above,  and  the 
soldiers  and  Experience  gained  the  victory, 
one  after  another  of  the  prisoners  came  down 
the  hill,  wounded  and  bleeding,  for  they  had 
risen  to  help  those  who  came  to  set  them  free, 
and  had  been  terribly  hurt  in  the  battle. 


The  ^tory   Continued.  141 

"  Benito  rose  and  did  wliat  he  could  for 
them,  bringing  water  to  their  tliirstj,  fevered 
lips,  staying  the  blood  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
gathering  fresh  grass  and  moss  for  pillows 
for  their  weary  heads.  And  while  he  was  so 
busy,  he  felt  a  touch  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
looking  up,  he  saw  the  shining  angel  who  had 
carried  away  the  little  boy  with  whom  he  had 
wept. 

"  '  Come,'  said  the  angel,  '  I  am  thy  Fa- 
ther's messenger,  sent  to  carry  thee  over  the 
river.' 

"  The  little  one  stretched  out  his  arms 
with  a  cry  of  joy  ;  but,  even  as  he  did  so,  the 
old  thought  came  to  him,  and  he  said,  sadly, 
*  Ah,  I  have  found  no  jewel  to  offer  to  my 
Father  ! ' 

"  The  angel  made  no  answer,  but  lifted  him 
up,  softly  kissing  his  forehead,  and  Benito 
sank  gently  into  his  arms.     The  angel  carried 


Z4-2  Bessie  in  the   City. 

him  swiftly  over  the  river,  and  on  the  other 
side  stood  his  Elder  Brother,  who  received 
him  from  the  messenger,  and  laid  him  in  his 
bosom ;  and  he  said  to  Benito,  '  My  lamb,  put 
thy  hand  into  thy  bosom  and  see  what  thou 
fmdest  there.' 

"  The  little  one  obeyed,  and  drew  forth  a 
string  of  pure  white  pearls,  so  fair,  so  lovely 
that  they  seemed  more  beautiful  than  any  of 
the  shining  jewels  which  his  fellow-pilgrims 
had  worn. 

"  '  That  is  thy  gift  unto  thy  Father,'  said  his 
Brother.  *  These  are  the  tears  which  the 
young  child  and  the  old  dame  shed  upon  thy 
bosom,  the  drops  of  water  which  thou  didst 
bring  to  the  fainting  prisoners,  with  which 
thou  didst  cheer  the  drooping  bird.  They 
have  changed  into  these  fair  pearls,  and  re- 
turned unto  thine  own  bosom,  because  in 
doing  it   unto   them,  thou  didst  it  unto  me. 


The  Story    Continued,  14^ 

See,  there  is  thy  welcome  into  the  home  of 
the  blessed.' 

"  Then  looking  up,  Benito  saw  written  ovei 
the  door  of  his  Father's  house,  '  Blessed  are 
the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy.' 

"  And  his  Brother  carried  him  into  his 
Father's  presence,  where  he  cast  his  pearls  at 
bis  feet,  and  was  received  into  his  love  and 
care  for  evermore." 

The  colonel  paused  and  looked  at  the  chil- 
dren, fearing  that  he  might  liave  made  his 
story  too  long.  But  it  did  not  seem  so,  for 
they  all  were  so  interested  that  they  had  quite 
forgotten  everything  else.  Bessie  lay  back 
with  her  head  on  his  arm,  and  her  eyes  fixed 
on  his  face  as  if  slie  feared  to  lose  a  word  ; 
while  even  Maggie's  restless  hands  were  quite 
still,  lying  clasped  on  the  arm  of  the  sofa 
tis  she  stood  motionless  beside  him.  Graoie 
and  Lily  had  drawn  up  their  chairs  and  sat 


144  Bessie  in  the  City. 

in  front  of  him,  listening  as  eagerly  as  the 
others  ;  and  now  Lily  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  said,  "  Is  that  all  ?  " 

"All!"  said  the  colonel.  "Yes.  Is  it 
not  enough?  I  feared  you  would  be  quite 
tired  of  me  and  my  story." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Lily.  "  I  wish  you  would 
tell  us  stories  all  day.    I  should  never  be  tired." 

"  I  should  then,"  said  Colonel  Rush,  smiling. 
"  And  it  is  nearly  time  for  you  to  go  home, 
now." 

"  Colonel  Rush,"  said  Gracie,  "  isn't  your 
story  what  is  called  an  allegory  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  Did  you  under- 
stand it,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  'Most  all  of  it,"  answered  Bessie.  "  You 
meant  that  even  little  children  can  do  some- 
thing for  Jesus  if  they  are  kind  and  good,  and 
he  wont  care  if  it  is  only  a  little  thing,  if  they 
do  it  'cause  they  love  him." 


The  Story   Continued.  145 

**  You  are  right,  my  darling." 

"  And  wlien  the  boy  went  in  the  wrong  road 
after  the  butterfly,  you  meant  that  we  mast 
not  do  wrono;  even  when  we  thou2rht  it  was 
for  a  good  purpose,"  said  Maggie.  "  Mamma 
told  me  that  the  other  day." 

*'And  the  Elder  Brother  means  Jesus," 
said  Lily. 

"  I  am  glad  you  all  understand  it  so  well," 
said  the  colonel,  ''  and  still  more  glad  that 
you  all  like  it.  It  was  Maggie's  little  hymn 
which  made  me  think  of  it.  So  you  may 
thank  her,  too,  for  any  pleasure  it  has  given 
you." 

*'And  who  is  Experience  ? "  asked  Mag- 
gie. 

"  Experience  may  be  older  people  who  are 
generally  wiser  in  some  tilings  than  the  little 
ones,  and  can  help  them  along  ;  but  who  may 
yet  learn  much  from  a  child." 
10 


146  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  Children  cannot  tcacli  grown  people  ;  can 
they  ?  "  said  Lily. 

"  I  think  they  can,"  said  Colonel  Rush,  lay- 
ing his  hand  lovingly  on  Bessie's  head.  "  The 
best  lesson  I  ever  learned  in  my  life  was  taught 
me  by  a  little  child." 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  And  what  was  the  lesson  ?  "  said  Gracie. 

"  You  must  not  ask,"  he  answered.  ''  Hero 
is  your  papa,  Maggie ;  and  T(5tn  for  you, 
Lily." 

The  children  said  good-by  to  their  kind 
friends,  and  went  away,  promising  gladly  to 
come  again  the  next  Sunday. 


VII. 


THE  PEACH-STONES. 


JHOSE  peach-stones  gave  Maggie  and 
Bessie  a  great  deal  to  do.  Tiiey  were 
very  busy  children  in  those  days.  On  Mon- 
day mamma  began  again  with  their  lessons. 
They  went  to  her  for  an  hour  each  morning 
after  they  came  from  their  walk,  said  a  read- 
ing and  spelling  lesson,  a  little  of  the  multi- 
plication-table which  Maggie  said  she  was 
sure  was  made  just ''  to  bother  little  girls," 
and  a  verse  of  poetry ;  and  when  the  hour 
was  over,  had  a  short  sewing  lesson.  Maggie's 
"  towel  task,"  as  she  called  it,  was  done  later 
in  the  day  whenever  her  mamma  had  time  to 
attend  to  her. 

As  soon  as  the  sewing  lesson  was  over,  they 


14S  Bessie  in  the  City, 

went  to  the  yard  to  look  after  the  peach- 
stones.  Patrick  saved  them  all  for  Bessie, 
and  had  found  two  boards  for  her  on  which 
she  might  dry  them  ;  and  never  pcacli-stones 
needed  so  much  attention.  In  the  first  j^lace, 
there  was  each  morning  the  plate  full  which 
Patrick  had  collected  from  the  table  to  be 
washed  and  spread  out  on  the  boards,  and 
the  whole  number  counted  over  and  over 
again,  for  they  could  never  naake  them  twice 
the  same. 

Often  when  they  went  out,  they  found  the 
cats  had  come  over  the  fence,  and  knocked 
them  down  into  the  earth  of  the  flower-gar- 
den, and  they  all  had  to  be  washed  over 
again.  Then  Flossy,  who  was  always  with 
them  now,  would  insist  on  scrambling  over 
the  boards,  and  would  send  the  peach-stones 
flying  in  every  direction,  for  he  thought  it  fine 
fun  to   see  them  rolling  about.     There  is  no 


The  Peach-Stones.  149 

telling  how  much  they  enjoyed  all  this  trou- 
ble, or  how  distressed  they  would  have  been, 
if  it  had  been  suddenly  brought  to  an  end. 
Indeed,  they  were  quite  disappointed  if  the^ 
found,  everything  in  good  order  when  they 
went  out  in  the  yard. 

*' Margaret,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  to  his  wife 
one  day,  as  he  sat  at  tlie  library  window, 
watching  his  little  daughters  at  their  work, 
"  how  long  do  you  suppose  it  will  take  those 
peach-stones  to  dry  at  this  rate  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bradford  laughed  as  she  came  and 
looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Dear  little  things  !  "  she  said.  "  How 
they  do  enjoy  it !  I  believe  they  fancy  thej? 
are  doing  the  chief  part  of  the  work  for  our 
peach  preserves,  besides  gaining  something  to 
add  to  their  store  for  the  library.  I  shall  be 
sorry  when  the  warm  weather  is  at  an  end, 
and  I  shall  have  to  forbid  them  to  play  with 


150  Bessie  in  the   City. 

water.  It  gives  some  trouble,  to  be  sure,  in 
the  matter  of  dresses  and  aprons,  but  I  have 
not  the  heart  to  stop  them,  while  I  do  not  fear 
they  will  take  cold." 

Nurse  grumbled  a  good  deal  over  the  wet 
dresses  and  aprons. 

*'  AVho  ever  heard  of  such  doings  ?  "  she  said 
one  day.  "  And  what's  the  good  of  it  all  ? 
Them  little  ignoramuses  out  in  the  backwoods 
can't  read  your  books  when  they  get  'em." 

Maggie  was  very  much  displeased. 

"  You  ought  not  to  talk  so,  nursey,"  she 
said.  "  If  those  children  don't  know  how  to 
read,  they  can  be  taught.  And  don't  you 
like  to  do  missionary  work  ?  " 

"  Missionary  work  !  "  said  nurse.  "  And 
do  you  think  I'd  leave  my  comfortable  home 
to  go  missioning  ?  " 

*'  That's  because  you're  not  so  very  good," 
said    Maggie,  gravely.      "  Miss    Winslow    is 


The  Peach-Stones,  151 

going  to  leave  her  comfortable  borne,  and  go 
to  teach  those  little  children  that  you  called 
such  an  unpleasant  name  ;  and  it's  very  good 
of  her.  Besides,  you  needn't  go  away  to  do 
missionary  work ;  you  can  do  it  here  if  you 
choose." 

"  And  how's  that  ?  I'd  like  to  know,"  said 
nursey,  whisking  off  Maggie's  wet  dress. 

"  If  we  want  to  help  people,  we  can  do  it 
without  going  away,"  said  Maggie,  "  and 
sometimes  it's  our  duty  to  do  it,  and  then 
that's  our  mission ;  mamma  said  so.  Now, 
nursey,  don't  you  think  you  have  a  duty?" 

"  If  I  have,  I  don't  need  you  to  teach  it  to 
me,"  said  nurse. 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  am  not  going  to 
teach  you,  'cause  you  are  old,  and  I  am  little, 
but  I  am  just  going  to  enter  an  ex-plan-a- 
tion  for  you,  'cause  you  don't  seem  to  under- 
stand " 


152  Bessie  in  the   City* 

— -i^^^a 

At  tliis,  Jane,  wlio  was  dressing  Bcssio 
began  to  giggle,  and  nurse  put  her  liead  into 
the  wardrobe,  where  the  children's  dresses 
laj. 

"Now,"  Maggie  went  on,  *'you  see  Miss 
Winslow  thinks  it  is  her  duty  to  go  and  teach 
those  log-cabin  children,  and  that's  her  mis- 
sionary work ;  and  it's  Bessie^s  duty  and 
mine  to  help  her  if  we  can,  so  it's  our  mission- 
ary work  to  buy  the  library ;  and  it's  your 
duty  to  dress  ns  if  we  get  ourselves  wet  while 
we  earn  the  money,  so  that's  your  missionary 
work  ;  and  you  ought  to  do  it  with  a  cheerful 
mind,  and  not  scold  us." 

Nurse  tried  to  look  grum,  but  the  corners 
of  her  mouth  were  twitching,  and  when  she 
had  fastened  Maggie's  dress,  she  gave  her  a 
hug  and  a  kiss  which  did  not  seem  as  though 
she  were  very  angry. 

As  soon  as  the  little  girls  had  run  away  to 


The  Peach-Stones.  153 

tlicir  mamma's  room,  nurse  and  Jano  laughed 
heartily. 

"Well,  well,"  said  nurse,  *' to  hear  the 
reasoning  of  her !  And  she  has  the  right  of 
it,  too,  bless  her  heart,  and  just  shames  her 
old  mammy." 

After  this,  there  was  no  more  grumbling 
about  the  wet  dresses. 

One  night  there  was  a  hard  storm,  and  in 
the  morning,  when  the  children  went  out, 
they  found  that  the  rain  had  washed  sand  and 
gravel  all  over  their  precious  peach-stones. 
This,  of  coiirse,  must  be  attended  to'  imme- 
diately, and  it  was  quite  a  piece  of  work,  for 
by  this  time  they  had  collected  seven  or  eight 
hundred. 

"  We  ought  to  have  something  large  to 
wash  them  in,"  said  Maggie.  "  What  can  we 
find  ?  " 

Now,  Mrs.   Bradford  had  a  new  cook,  who 


154  Bessie  tn  the   City, 

had  only  been  in  the  house  for  two  or  three 
days  ;  and,  as  the  children  were  seldom  al- 
lowed to  go  into  the  kitchen,  she  was  as  yet 
quite  a  stranger  to  them.  This  cook  had  not 
a  good  temper,  but  she  was  very  neat,  and 
that  morning  she  had  been  making  a  great 
Bcrubbing  and  polishing  of  her  tins,  after 
which  she  put  thenl  out  in  the  sun.  Looking 
about  for  somethhig  in  which  to  wash  their 
peach-stones,  Maggie  and  Bessie  saw  these  tins, 
and  among  them  a  bright  new  colander. 

''  Oh,  that's  just  what  we  want,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  Can  we  take  it,  Patrick  ? "  she  asked 
of  the  good-natured  waiter,  who  was  cleaning 
knives  in  the  area. 

"  'Deed,  and  ye  may,"  said  Patrick,  who 
thought  his  little  ladies  must  have  everything 
they  asked  for. 

Much  delighted,  the  children  filled  the  col- 
ander   with  peach-stones,  and,  carrying  it  to 


The  Peach-Stones.  155 

the  hydrant,  turned  on  the  water,  thinking  it 
fine  fun  to  sec  it  stream  through  the  holes  of 
the  colander. 

Meanwhile  Flossy,  who  was  running  about 
the  yard,  putting  his  nose  into  everything, 
found  a  quantity  of  muffin-rings,  and  think- 
ing that  these  would  be  good  things  for  him 
to  play  with,  soon  had  them  rolling  about  in 
every  direction  ;  but  our  little  girls  were  too 
busy  to  see  that  he  was  in  mischief. 

It  took  some  time  to  wash  all  the  peach- 
stones,  but  they  were  done  at  last,  and  just 
arranged  again  in  regular  rows  upon  the 
boards,  when  the  cook  came  out  to  take  in 
her  tins.  Angry  enough  she  was  when  she 
saw  the  rings  scattered  around,  and  the  clean, 
bright  colander  smeared  with  sand  and  gravel ; 
and  terribly  she  scolded. 

*'  How  dare  ye  ! "  she  said  to  Maggie  and 
Bessie.     "  I'll  teach  ye  to  touch  my  tins." 


15^  Bessie  in  the  City, 

"  Thcy'ro  not  yours,"  said  Bessie,  "  tliey 
are  mamma's.  Maggie  and  I  were  with  her 
the  other  day  when  slie  bought  that  basin 
with  holes  in,  and  she  only  lent  them  to  you  ; 
and,  cook,  we  don't  be  talked  to  in  that  way ; 
mamma  don't  allow  it." 

This  made  the  cook  still  more  angry,  and 
she  scolded  in  a  way  quite  terrible  to  hear, 
while  the  children  stood  looking  at  her,  too 
much  astonished  and  frightened  to  answer. 
But  Flossy  never  heard  any  great  noise  with- 
out trying  to  add  his  share,  and  he  now 
began  to  bark  at  cook  with  all  his  might. 

"  There  now,"  said  Patrick,  "  don't  ye  make 
such  a  fuss,  Bridget,  and  I'll  just  wash  yer 
colander  as  clane  as  a  new  pin.  They're  not 
used  to  sich  talk,  isn't  the  little  ladies ;  for 
it's  dacent  people  we  are  all,  Mrs.  Bradford's 
help,  and  not  a  hard  word  among  us  at  all,  at 
all.    Come  now,  be  civil ;  and  do  you  run  to 


The  Peach-Stones,  157 

your  play,  honeys  j  it  is  no  harrum  yo  have 
done." 

But  the  cook  would  not  be  pacified,  and 
scolded  louder  and  louder,  wliile  the  more  she 
scolded,  the  louder  Flossy  barked. 

''  Cook,"  said  Bessie,  "  you  are  a  very 
naughty  woman,  and  I  don't  think  we'll  keep 
you." 

"  Woof,  woof,"  said  Flossy. 

"Be  off  with  you,"  said  cook.  "You'll 
fly  at  me,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Woof,  woof,"  said  Flossy. 

The  woman  snatched  up  Patrick's  knife- 
brick,  and  with  a  very  bad  word  to  the  chil- 
dren, was  about  to  throw  it  at  the  puppy, 
when  Patrick  caught  her  arm ;  and  the 
frightened  little  ones,  catching  up  their  dog, 
scampered  off  as  fast  as  their  feet  could  carry 
them. 

Up  the  back  steps  and  through  piazza  and 


,158  Bessie  in   the   City, 

liall,  till  they  readied  the  front  stairs,  where 
they  sat  down  quite  out  of  breath.  For  a 
moment  or  two  neither  of  them  said  a  word, 
but  sat  looking  at  each  other,  as  if  they  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  all  this;  while 
Flossy,  thinking  he  had  made  noise  enough 
for  this  time,  curled  himself  up  in  Maggie's 
lap  for  a  nap. 

At  last,  Maggie  gave  a  long  sigh.  "  Oh, 
dear,"  she  said,  "  what  a  dreadful  woman !  " 

"  And  what  a  wicked  word  she  called  us  !  " 
said  Bessie.     "  Maggie,  what  shall  wo  do  ?  " 

''  We'll  have  to  tell  mamma,"  said  Maggie  ; 
"  she  ought  to  know  it." 

"  But,  how  can  we  tell  her  ?  I  don't  like  to 
say  that  word,  and,  Maggie,  I  don't  like  you 
to  say  it  either." 

"  But  I  s'pose  we'll  have  to,"  said  Maggie. 
"  Mamma  wouldn't  like  to  have  a  swearer  in 
her  house." 


The  Peach"  St  ones.  159 

*'  And  what  will  bo  done  to  tho  cook  ?  *' 
asked  Bessie.     "  Will  she  be  hung  ?  " 

"  No,  I  guess  not,"  answered  Maggie.  '*  I 
think  they  only  hang  people  when  they  kill 
somebody.  But  I  s'poso  she'll  have  to  be 
took  to  prison.  Papa's  a  lawyer,  and  I  guess 
he'll  send  her.'' 

*'  I  thought  the  policemen  did  that,"  said 
Bessie. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Maggie.  ''  You  know 
papa  goes  down  town  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  his  office." 

"  And  he  goes  to  another  place  called 
*  court,'  "  said  Maggie.  ''  Well,  when  some- 
body is  very  wicked,  the  police  officer  comes, 
and  takes  him  to  the  lawyer,  and  he  says, 
'  Mister,  this  is  a  very  naughty  person  who 
has  done  something  very  bad  ; '  and  the  law- 
yer says,  '  Here,  you,  go  to  prison,  and  just 


l6o  Bessie  in  the   City, 

behave  yourself.'  And  then  the  policeman 
takes  him  to  prison,  and  locks  him  up." 

"Oh  I"  said  Bessie,  looking  at  her  sister 
with  great  admiration,  *'  what  a  wise  girl  you 
are!     You  know  almost  everything." 

"  I  am  going  to  try  and  learn  a  great  deal 
more,  so  I  can  tell  everybody  everything  they 
want  to  know,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Maggie,  do  you  think  cook  has  been 
'brought  up  in  the  way  she  should  go'?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Maggie.  "  No  *  way 
she  should  go '  about  it." 

"  Then  do  you  think  we  ought  to  want  her 
to  be  punished  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  her  to  be  punished,"  an- 
swered Maggie  ;  "  at  least,  not  much.  But 
you  see  she  ought  to  be.  Anyhow,  we  must 
tell  mamma,  and  she'll  know  what  is   best." 

"  But  how  can  we  say  that  word  ?  "  said 
Be'«iitj. 


The  Peach-Stones,  i6i 

**  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Maggie,-  after  a  mo- 
ment's thought.  "  You  say  half  of  it,  Bes- 
sie, and  I'll  say  the  rest.  I'll  say  the  first 
half." 

"Well,"  said  Bessie,  with  a  long  sigh.  "  I 
suppose  we'll  have  to.  Let's  go  and  do  it 
quick  then.     I  don't  like  to  think  about  it." 

Maggie  laid  Flossy  down  upon  the  soft  mat 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  hand  in  hand, 
she  and  Bessie  went  up  to  their  mother's  room. 
Now  it  so  happened  that  Mrs.  Bradford  had 
been  passing  through  the  upper  hall  as  the 
little  girls  sat  talking  below.  She  stopped  for 
a  moment  to  see  what  they  were  doing,  and 
heard  Maggie  tell  Bessie  about  the  lawyer. 
They  did  not  see  or  hear  her,  and  she  would 
not  wait  to  listen,  though  she  was  sure,  from 
the  sound  of  their  voices  that  they  were  in 
trouble,  but  passed  on  to  her  room,  where  her 
sister  Annie  and  Mrs.  Rush  were  sitting.  She 
n 


x62  Bessie  in  the   City, 

told  them  what  Maggie  had  said,  at  which 
they  were  very  much  amused. 

"  Something  has  happened  to  distress  them," 
said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  and  I  suppose  1  shalJ 
soon  hear  of  it.  If  they  come  up  with  any 
droll  story,  do  not  laugh,  as  it  seems  to  be  a 
serious  matter  to  them." 

Mrs.  Rush  and  Annie  Stanton  promised  to 
keep  sober  faces  if  possible  ;  but  they  did  not 
know  how  much  their  gravity  was  to  be  tried. 
A  moment  later,  the  children  came  in,  and 
with  grave,  earnest  looks  walked  directly  to 
their  mother. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  '^  we  have  some- 
thing dreadful  to  tell  you." 

"  Such  a  shocking  thing !  "  said  Bessie  ; 
"  hut  we  liave  to  tell  you." 

*'  That  is  right,  my  darUngs,"  said  mamma. 
"  If  you  have  done  anything  wrong,  tell  me  at 
once,  and  I  will  forgive  you." 


The  Peach-Sto7ies,  163 

**  It  was  not  us,  mamma.  It  was  the  new 
cook.     Tell  her  quick,  Maggie." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per, "  she  called  us  little  dev'  —  " 

"  'ul,"  said  Bessie. 

"'s  —  s — s  —  s  !"  said  Maggie. 

Down  went  Aunt  Annie's  face  into  the  sofa- 
pillows,  while  Mrs.  Kush  turned  quickly  to- 
ward the  window  to  liide  hers.  Mrs.  Bradford 
coughed,  and  put  her  hand  over  her  mouth, 
but  it  was  all  useless  ;  and  Annie's  merry 
laugh  was  ringing  in  the  children's  astonished 
ears. 

Maggie  colored  all  over,  and  the  tears  came 
in  her  eyes,  while  Bessie,  with  cheeks  almost 
as  red,  turned  angrily  to  her  aunt. 

"  You  oughtn't,  you  oughtn't !  "  she  said  ; 
*'  It  is  not  a  thing  to  laugh  at.  It  was  a 
shocking,  shocking  word." 

"My   darling,"  began  mamma,   then    she, 


164  Bessie  in  the   City, 

too,  broke  doTvn  and  laughed  witli  the  other 
ladles. 

This  was  quite  too  much  ;  Bessie  hid  her 
face  on  Maggie's  shoulder,  and  both  burst  into 
tears.  Mamma  was  grave  in  a  moment.  She 
lifted  Bessie  on  her  lap,  and  drew  Maggie  close 
to  her  side. 

''  My  poor  little  ones,"  she  said,  "  that  was 
too  bad,  but  we  did  not  mean  to  hurt  your 
feelings;"  and  she  soothed  and  petted  them 
till  they  could  look  up  again  and  dry  their 
tears. 

"  Now  tell  me  all  about  it,"  she  said  ;  and 
Bessie  told  her  story  with  many  a  grieved  sob, 
ending  with  "  And  then  she  called  us  that 
name,  mamma,"  for  she  would  not  trust  her- 
self to  repeat  the  words  which  had  caused  her 
and  Maggie  so  much  distress. 

Mrs.  Bradford  was  much  displeased  with 
the  cook,  and  reproved  her ;  but  the  woman 


The   Peach-Stofies.  165 

was  saucy,  and  as  she  made  much  trouble  in 
the  kitchen,  she  sent  her  away.  The  children 
were  greatly  surprised  that  no  policeman  came 
for  her,. and  that  she  left  the  house  quite  qui- 
etly, as  if  nothing  extraordinary  had  hap- 
pened. 

About  this  time  an  end  came  to  the  wash- 
ing of  peach-stones,  for,  as  tlie  weather  became 
cool,  mamma  forbade  Maggie  and  Bessie  to 
play  with  water.  So  the  stones  had  at  last  a 
chance  to  dry ;  then  Patrick  cracked  them, 
and  the  children  took  out  the  kernels.  Boil- 
ing water  was  then  poured  over  them,  and 
when  it  had  cooled  enough  for  small  fingers, 
the  kernels  were  fished  out ;  and  the  skin 
which  the  hot  water  had  loosened  was  slipped 
off  by  the  little  girls.  After  that  mamma  al- 
lowed them  to  drop  the  blanched  pits  into  the 
jars  of  preserves ;  and  papa  declared  that  no 
peaches  had  ever  tasted  so  good  as  those  sweet- 


166  Bessie  in  the   City. 

meats  which  his  Maggie  and  Bessie  had  helped 
to  make.  They  had  collected  thirteen  hun- 
dred peach-stones,  and  earned  sixty-five  cents, 
which  went  into  the  "library-box"  in  mam- 
ma's drawer.  Maggie  had  hemmed  four 
towels,  for  which  she  had  been  paid  twenty 
cents.  This,  with  papa's  twenty-seven  bright 
pennies,  made  one  dollar  and  twelve  cents. 


VIII. 

THE  NEW   GLOVES. 

AGGIE  and  Bessie,"  said  mamma  one 
morning,  "  I  want  to  see  your  gloves. 
It  is  a  month  to-day  since  you  began  to  save 
money  for  your  library." 

The  gloves  were  soon  brought,  and  mamma 
examined  them. 

"  Maggie,  your  second-best  are  too  shabby 
to  be  worn  any  more,"  said  her  mother,  "  you 
must  take  the  better  ones  for  every  day,  and  I 
shall  buy  you  a  new  pair." 

"  Oh,  mamma,  I  would  rather  keep  the  old 
pair,  and  save  the  money,"  said  Maggie,. 

"No,  dear;  you  know  I  told  you  I  must 
keep  you  as  neat  and  well  dressed  as  usual. 
You  must  have  what  is  necessary,  and  then 


1 68  Bessie  in  the  City. 

what    is    left   of    the    dollar    goes    in   youi 
box." 

"  And  how  much  will  it  take  for  new  gloves, 
mamma  ? " 

"  About  seventy-five  cents.  Then  you  have 
had  two  boot-laces ;  tliey  are  ten  cents ;  that 
leaves  fifteen  cents  out  of  the  dollar.  Bessie's 
gloves  will  do,  I  think,  and  she  has  had  one 
boot-lace  ;  that  leaves  the  whole  of  her  dollar 
except  five  cents.  Maggie,  you  must  have 
taken  great  pains  to  use  fewer  laces.  This  is 
a  great  improvement  on  last  month." 

But  in  spite  of  her  mother's  praise,  Maggie's 
face  looked  very  long.  Bessie  had  almost  the 
whole  of  her  dollar,  and  but  a  few  cents  were 
left  of  her  own. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  think  Maggie 
could  not  help  it,  if  her  second  gloves  are 
pretty  mussed.  The  other  day  Flossy  yau 
away  with  them,  and  before  we  could  get  them 


The  New   Gloves.  169 

he  had  chewed  one  all  up.  And  it  was  not 
Maggie's  carelessness,  'cause  Jane  put  them 
on  the  bed,  and  Flossy  jumped  up  and  pulled 
them  off.  Couldn't  you  take  a  little  of  my 
dollar  to  help  to  buy  the  new  gloves,  and  let 
Maggie  keep  some  more  of  hers  ?  " 

"  That  will  not  do,"  said  mamma,  smiling 
at  the  generous  little  girl ;  "  but  since  it  was 
Flossy's  fault  that  the  gloves  were  spoiled,  and 
Maggie  has  taken  so  much  pains,  I  will  only 
take  out  fifty  cents  for  the  new  pair.  And  I 
will  tell  you,  Bessie,  it  is  much  harder  for 
Maggie  to  keep  her  things  neat  than  it  is 
for  you,  and  then  she  generally  puts  on  her 
own  shoes,  while  nurse  or  Jane  puts  on 
yours.  Suppose  next  month  I  add  another 
twenty-five  cents  to  her  dollar  ;  are  you  will- 
ing ? "  . 

"  Course  I  am,  mamma.  I  am  just  as  glad 
as  anything.     Isn't  that  nice,  Maggie'  ?  '* 


170  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Maggie's  face  brightened.  "  And  how 
much  have  we  now,  mamma  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Forty  cents  out  of  Maggie's  dollar,  and 
ninety-five  from  Bessie's  just  make  one  dol- 
lar, thirty-five  cents.  You  have  one  dollar 
and  twelve  cents  in  your  box,  which  make  in 
all  two  dollars,  forty-seven  cents." 

Maggie  was  quite  happy  when  she  found 
they  had  such  a  sum,  which  mamma  told 
them  was  nearly  half  of  what  they  wanted  for 
the  library. 

Grandmamma's  carriage  now  drove  to  the 
door,  and  she  came  in  and  asked  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford to  go  out  with  her  and  take  the  children. 
Mamma  said  she  could  not  go  herself,  for 
baby  was  not  well,  and  she  did  not  care  to 
leave  her,  but  the  children  might  go  if  grand- 
mamma wished.  Away  they  ran  to  be  dressed, 
full  of  glee,  for  shopping  with  grandmamma 
was   a  great  pleasure,  and  they  were  almost 


The  New   Gloves,  171 

sure  to  come  home  richer  than  they  went. 
They  drove  to  several  places,  and  when  the 
children  thought  there  was  anything  interest- 
ing to  be  seen,  they  went  into  the  store  with 
their  grandmother.  If  not,  they  remained  in 
the  carriage,  and  chatted  with  the  coachman, 
or  watched  the  people  passing  in  the  street. 

At  last  they  went  to  a  large  store,  where 
Mrs.  Stanton  and  Mrs.  Bradford  were  in  the 
habit  of  going,  and  where  Maggie  and  Bessie 
felt  quite  at  home.  There  was  a  good-natured 
clerk,  who  was  nurse's  nephew,  and  whenever 
he  saw  them,  he  was  sure  to  have  an  empty 
box  with  a  picture  cover,  or  a  bright-colored 
piece  of  paper  or  ribbon  to  give  them.  Here 
grandmamma  bought  several  things  which 
•did  not  much  interest  the  little  girls ;  but 
at  last  she  took  them  to  another  counter, 
where  she  said  something  to  the  clerk  about 
gloves. 


172  Bessie  in  the  City. 

"Why,  grandmamma,"  said  Maggie,  "are 
you  going  to  buy  gloves  ?  Do  you  know  you 
have  a  whole  box  full  at  home  ?  I  saw  them 
the  other  day  when  you  let  me  put  your 
drawer  in  order." 

But  Mrs.  Stanton  only  smiled,  and  pinched 
Maggie's  round  cheek,  and  just  then  the 
gloves  were  put  before  them.  Oh !  such 
gloves  as  those  were  never  meant  for  grand- 
mamma's hand.  Kid  gloves  they  were  too, 
and  who  had  ever  seen  any  so  small  before  ? 
In  her  surprise  and  pleasure,  Maggie  had 
almost  forgotten  that  she  had  been  forbidden 
to  handle  anything  when  she  went  shopping  ; 
but  just  as  her  hand  touched  the  gloves,  she 
remembered,  and  drew  it  back.  But  the  good- 
natured  clerk  gave  them  to  her,  telling  her  to 
look  at  them  if  she  pleased. 

"  Just  like  ladies'  gloves,"  said  Bessie,  who, 
stretching   up  on  tiptoe,  could  just  see  abovu 


The  New   Gloves.  173 

the  counter.  Grandmamma  lifted  her  and 
seated  her  upon  it. 

*'  Do  you  call  that  a  hand  ?  "  said  she,  play- 
fully, taking  Bessie's  little  fingers  in  her  own. 
"  Mr.  Jones,  have  you  a  pair  small  enough  for 
that  ?  " 

How  Bessie  wished  her  hand  was  larger  as 
the  clerk  shook  his  head  !  But  after  looking 
through  the  whole  bundle,  a  pair  was  found 
which  grandmamma  thought  would  do,  and 
then  a  pair  for  Maggie  was  picked  out  with 
less  trouble.  They  were  wrapped  in  separate 
parcels,  and  each  child  took  her  own,  feeling 
quite  as  if  she  must  have  grown  taller  since 
she  came  to  that  counter.  Then  the  clerk 
gave  them  each  a  piece  of  fancy  paper,  —  Mag- 
gie's, gilt,  with  flowers  stamped  upon  it,  Bes- 
sie's, blue,  with  silver  stars. 

As  soon  as  they  reached  home,  they  ran  to 
show  mamma  their  treasures,  but  Mrs.  Brad- 


174  Bessie  in  the   City, 

ford  noticed  that  Maggie  did  not  seem  half  so 
eager  as  usual,  when  she  had  received  any 
new  pleasure.  While  Bessie  was  talking  as 
fast  as  her  little  tongue  could  go,  she  stood 
almost  silent  at  her  mother's  knee,  drawing 
her  fingers  slowly  back  and  forth  over  her  gilt 
paper. 

"  What  makes  our  Maggie  so  quiet  ?  "  Mrs. 
Bradford  asked.  "  Are  you  not  pleased  with 
your  grandmother's  pretty  present,  dear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  mamma  !  hut  I  was  just  consider- 
ing about  it  a  little." 

"  What  were  you  considering  ?  " 

"  If  it  was  quite  fair  for  me  to  wear  the 
gloves,  mamma.     Do  you  think  it  is  ?  " 

"  Why  should  it  not  be  fair,  Maggie  ? 
Grandmamma  gave  you  the  gloves  for  your 
own  ;  did  she  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am  ;    but  then  she  did  not 
know  you  gave  me  glove  allowance ;  and  may- 


The  New  Gloves,  175 

be  she  would  not  have  bought  them  for  me  if 
she  had  known.  And  now  you  wont  have  to 
get  me  another  pair  this  month.  So  maybe 
you  wont  think  I  ought  to  have  the  gloves 
and  the  money  too.  I  want  to  be  quite  very 
fair,  indeed,  I  do,  mamma,  and  I  didn't  know 
how  to  think  it  was  quite  right.  Besides, 
those  gloves  are  nicer  than  the  kind  you  buy 
for  us,  and  perhaps  you  would  think  you 
ought  to  take  a  little  more  of  my  dollar  for 
them.  If  you  would,  I  would  rather  have  a 
pair  of  the  other  kind,  and  put  these  away, 
and  let  the  money  go  in  the  library-box." 

''You  may  wear  the  gloves  and  welcome, 
my  dear,  honest  little  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford, drawing  Maggie  to  her,  and  kissing  her. 
''It  is  quite  fair  for  you  to  do  so.  Grand- 
mamma knew  that  I  gave  you  a  certain  sum 
for  your  gloves  and  so  forth,  and  I  think  she 
meant  to  help  you  a  little  by  buying  these  for 


1 76  Bessie  in  the   City, 

you.  I  am  glad  my  darling  child  wishes  to 
be  honest  and  upright  in  all  she  does.  But  I 
must  be  quite  fair  too.  I  told  you  I  should 
give  you  so  much  a  month,  and  take  from  it 
what  you  needed  for  gloves  and  shoe-laces,  and 
whatever  was  left  you  might  keep  for  another 
purpose.  Now  since  grandmamma  has  given 
you  these,  there  is  no  need  for  me  to  buy  you 
another  pair  ;  but  it  would  not  be  just  for  me 
to  take  A'om  you  any  part  of  the  money  they 
would  have  cost.  It  is  your  gain,  not  mine. 
When  a  bargain  has  been  made,  we  must  hold 
to  it,  even  though  things  turn  out  differently 
from  what  was  expected." 

"  But  you  need  not  hold  to  this  bargain,  if 
you  do  not  wish  to,  mamma." 

'*  Indeed,  I  do  wish  to,  Maggie,  and  you 
need  not  feel  in  the  least  troubled  about  it.  I 
am  not  only  satisfied,  but  very  glad  that  you 
have  received  this  little  help." 


The  New   Gloves,  177 

After  this,  Maggie's  mind  was  at  rest,  and 
she  wore  her  new  gloves  with  great  pleasure. 

"  Hallo  ! "  said  Fred,  as  he  and  Harry  came 
into  the  library  that  afternoon,  and  found 
their  little  sisters  quietly  playing  in  one  cor- 
ner. "  What  scrumptious  paper !  Where 
did  you  get  that,  Midget  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Jones,  nurse's  nephew,  gave  it  to  us,'* 
Baid  Maggie.  "  He  gave  me  the  gold  piece, 
and  Bessie  the  silver  piece,  but  we  cut  them 
in  two  and  each  took  half." 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  hold  of  such  friends 
as  you  do,"  said  Fred.  "  Somebody  is  always 
giving  you  something.  How  do  you  manage 
it?" 

''  We  don't  manage  it,"  said  Bessie,  who 
thought  that  Fred  meant  to  say  that  she  and 
Maggie  liked  their  friends  for  what  they  gave 
them.  "  We  don't  manage  it,  and  we  don't  get 
hold  of  them,  Fred.  Our  friends  give  us 
12 


17b  Bessie  tn  the   City, 

things  because  they  like  to  do  it,  and  we  never 
ask  for  anything  ;  do  we,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  '*  and  you  ought  not  to 
talk  so,  Fred." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  say  anything,"  said  he, 
"  but  it  is  true  ;  is  it  not  ?  Are  not  people 
always  making  you  presents,  and  taking  you 
to  places,  and  doing  other  things  to  give  you 
pleasure  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie,  "  but  they  do  it  be- 
cause they  like  us.  If  anybody  loves  anybody, 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  do  a  favor  to  them.  We 
think  it  is  ;  don't  we,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  it ;  is  it  ?  "  said  Fred.  "  Well 
then,  you  love  me  ;  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Course  we  do,  because  you're  our  brother  ; 
and  we'd  love  you  a  great  deal  more  if  you 
didn't  tease  us,  Fred." 

^'  Well,  if  you  love  me,  and  it  is  such  a 
pleasure  to  do  things  for  people  you  love,  you 


The  New   Gloves,  179 

can  please  yourselves  very  much  by  giving  mo 
some  of  this  paper." 

"  Oh,  we  can't ;  we  want  it  ourselves,"  said 
Maggie,  while  Bessie  took  up  both  pieces  of 
paper,  and  put  her  hands  behind  her,  as  if  she 
feared  that  Fred  would  run  off  with  them. 

*'  Ho,  ho,"  said  he,  ''  then  you  love  your- 
selves better  than  you  do  me  ?  " 

"  Fred,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  who  was  sitting 
on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  "  do  not  tease 
your  sisters." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  tease  them,  sir  ;  but  as 
Maggie  thinks  it  so  delightful  to  please  peo- 
ple whom  one  loves,  I  was  only  giving  her  a 
chance  to  do  it,  and  she  don't  seem  to  care  to 
take  it.  I  say,  Hal,  wouldn't  this  paper  be 
jolly  to  make  stars  and  things  for  our  new 
kites  ? " 

"First-rate,"  said  Harry.  "I'll  tell  you 
what.  Midget  and  Bess,  will  you  sell  it  ?  " 


tSo  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  ratlicr  crossly,  "  we 
want  it  for  dresses  for  our  paper  dolls.  You 
do  tease  us,  and  we  want  you  to  go  away, 
even  if  you  say  you  don't  mean  to,  and  you 
sha'n't  —  "  Bessie  stopped,  and  then  went  on 
again  in  a  pleasanter  voice.  "Please  to 
'sense  me,  Fred.  I  didn't  mean  to  be  so 
cross,  but  we  are  so  busy,  and  we'd  yather  you 
wouldn't  interyupt  us." 

These  last  words  were  said  in  a  very  polite 
little  manner,  which  rather  amused  the  boys. 
Fred  had  been  ready  with  a  sharp  answer, 
when  Bessie  began  so  angrily  ;  but  now,  when 
he  saw  her  check  her  quick  temper,  he  was 
ashamed  to  provoke  her. 

"Just  as  you  choose,"  he  said,  "but  you 
are  in  such  a  way  in  these  days  to  lay  up 
money  for  your  mission-books  that  I  thought 
you  would  be  willing  enough  to  sell  it." 

"  Children,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  again  look 


The  New    Gloves,  i8i 

ing  up  from  his  writing,  "  if  you  cannot  play 
without  disputing,  I  shall  separate  you.  Fred, 
your  little  sisters  were  quiet  and  happy  before 
you  came  in.  Do  not  let  me  have  to  speak  to 
you  again,  my  boy." 

Now  here  was  the  consequence  of  having  u, 
bad  character.  Fred  had  not  intended  to  vex 
the  children,  but  he  was  so  in  the  habit  of 
teasing  them  that  they  were  afraid  of  him,  and 
thought  he  meant  it  when  he  did  not ;  while 
his  father,  who  had  not  heard  much  of  what 
was  passing,  but  who  had  been  disturbed  by 
the  fretful  tone  of  Bessie's  voice,  took  it  for 
granted  that  Fred  was  annoying  her.  But 
Bessie  was  too  honest  to  let  him  be  blamed 
when  he  had  not  deserved  it. 

'  Fred  was  not  naughty,  papa,"  she  said 
•'  I'm  'fraid  it  was  me.     I  was  cross." 

"  Yery  well,"  said  her  father,  who  thought 
it  best  to  let  them  settle  the  difficulty  them 


l82  Bessie  in  the   City, 

selves,  if  thej  could  do  it  peaceably ;  "  only 
let  there  be  no  more  quarrelling." 

"  Suppose  we  go  and  finish  our  kites," 
said  Harry.  Fred  agreed,  and  the  two  boys 
went  away. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Maggie,  presently,  "  Fm 
just  of  a  good  mind  to  give  Harry  a  piece  of 
my  paper." 

*'  For  some  pennies  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

*'No;  mamma  said  it  was  not  nice  for 
brothers  and  sisters  to  sell  things  to  one 
another ;  and  she  don't  want  us  to  be  too 
anxious  to  get  money,  even  for  our  library. 
I'm  just  going  to  give  it  to  him,  'cause  that 
day  when  he  asked  me  for  the  shell,  I  said 
I  would  sell  it  to  him ;  and  then  he'll  see  I 
am  not  a  miser." 

"  Well,"  said  Bessie,  "  then  I'll  give  Fred 
a  piece  of  mine,  'cause  I  was  cross  to  him 
just  now." 


The  New   Gloves,  183 

"  Harry  shall  have  my  gold  piece,"  said 
Maggie,  "  and  then  we'll  divide  these  two 
'tween  ourselves." 

"  So  we  will,"  said  Bessie,  ^'  then  we  will 
all  have  some.  Maggie,  you  do  fix  every- 
thing so  nice." 

Away  they  ran  to  their  brothers'  playroom. 

"  Holloa !  "  said  Fred,  when  he  saw  them ; 
"  we  are  not  such  plagues  but  that  you  had 
to  run  after  us,  eh  ?  " 

*'  We  came  to  bring  you  some  of  our  pa 
per,"  said  Maggie.  "  This  piece  is  for  you, 
Harry,  and  Bessie's  is  for  Fred." 

"  Well,  you  are  first-rate  little  chaps,"  said 
Fred ;  "  and  Hal  and  I  will  make  each  of 
you  a  nice  little  kite ;  see  if  we  don't." 

"  Oh,  Fred  !  "  said  Bessie. 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?  Sha'n't  you 
like  that  ?  " 


184  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  Ladies  are  not  chaps,"  said  Bessie,  grave- 
ly, "  and   they  don't  play  with  kites." 

"  Oh,  you're  a  big  lady,  aren't  you  ?  "  said 
he,  laughing. 

''  I  can  be  a  lady  if  I'm  not  so  very  big. 
Mamma  says  anybody  can  be  a  lady  or  a 
gemperlum,  if  they  are  kind  and  polite,  even 
if  they  are  very  little,  or  even  if  they  are 
poor." 

"  Ah  right,"  said  Fred.  "  Then  I  suppose 
that  lady  wont  accept  a  kite  from  this  gem- 
perlum." 

"  Don't  say  it  that  way ;  you  must  say 
gem-per-lum." 

"  Well,  don't  I  say  gem-per-lum  ?  " 

"  That's  not  the  way,"  said  Bessie,  her 
color  rising,  for  she  knew  that  Fred  was 
laughing  at  her,  and  she  thought  it  was  hard. 

"  Fred,"  said  Harry,  '•'  you  are  breaking 
your  resolution  already." 


Bessie  in  City. 


p.  184. 


The  New   Gloves.  185 

"  That  is  so.     What  a  fellow  I  am  !  " 

''  Fred,"  said  Bessie,  '^  gemperlums  don't 
tease.  Papa  is-  a  gemperlum,  and  he  never 
teases." 

"  And  mamma  said  Tom  Norris  was  a  per- 
fect little  gentleman,  and  he  does  not  tease. 
I  guess  gentlemen  always  '  do  to  others  as 
they  would,'  "  said  Maggie,  who  was  very  fond 
of  this  line. 

"  They  ought  to  if  they  do  not,"  said  Har- 
ry, "  and  no  one  can  say  that  you  don't  keep 
that  rule,  Maggie." 

"  When  people  have  angry  passions,  it's 
very  hard  not  to  get  in  one  when  they're 
teased,"  said  Bessie.  "Fred,  I  do  have  to  try 
so  very,  very  hard." 

Fred  threw  down  his  kite,  and  caught  his 
little  sister  in  his  arms. 

"  See  if  I  plague  you  any  more  then,"  he 
said.     "  I  was  just  telling  Harry  I  did  not 


i86 


Bessie  in  the   City. 


mean  to  do  it,  and  the  first  thing,  I  am  at  it 
again ;  but  I  will  try  to  remember,  Bess. 
Harry,  if  I  forget  again,  I  give  you  leave  to 
bring  me  up  short  the  best  way  you  can." 

Fred  kept  his  word,  and  after  this,  took 
much  pains  to  break  himself  of  his  provoking 
habit. 


IX 


TWO  LOST  PETS. 


HAT  night  Maggie  had  a  very  bad 
J  earache.  She  tried  to  be  patient,  but 
the  pain  was  so  severe  that  she  could  not  help 
crying,  and  could  get  no  rest.  Her  father 
and  mother  were  up  with  her  almost  all  night, 
trying  to  give  her  ease  ;  but  nothing  did  her 
any  good  until  towards  morning,  when  she  fell 
into  a  troubled  sleep. 

"  Margaret,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  at  the  break- 
fast-table, "•  is  that  committee  coming  hero 
this  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  "  may  I  see  it  ?  " 

"  See  what,  —  the  committee  ? " 

"  Yes'm." 


1 88  Bessie  in  the   City. 

Mrs.  Bradford  smiled.  ^'I  do  not  think 
you  would  care  much  about  it,  Bessie,  and 
the  committee  will  be  too  busy  with  its  own 
affairs  to  care  to  see  you." 

•'  Why,  is  it  alive  ?  "  asked  Bessie,  in  great 
surprise. 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Fred,  before  his  mother 
could  answer  ;  ''  did  you  never  see  one  ?  " 

**  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  could  it  bite  me  or 
scratch  me?  " 

"  It  could  if  it  had  a  mind  to,"  said  Fred, 
*'  and  —  "  He  was  stopped  by  Harry's  hand 
over  his  mouth.  Fred  drew  back  his  head, 
and  looked  angry. 

"  You  gave  me  leave,"  said  Harry. 

"So  I  did,"  said  Fred.  "I  beg  your  par- 
don, Bess,  for  plaguing  you  once  more.  The 
committee  wont  hurt  you  ;  it's  nothing  but  a 
lot  of  ladies." 

"You   should   beg  your   mother's  pardon, 


Two  Lost  Pets,  189 

also,  for  answering  a  question  addressed  to 
her,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  ;  *^  it  is  a  rude  thing 
to  do.  Come  to  me,  Bessie."  He  took  her 
upon  his  knee,  saying,  "  A  committee  is  a 
number  of  people  who  are  appointed  to  attend 
to  some  particular  thing.  You  know  that  the 
ladies  in  our  church  are  going  to  make  up 
some  clothing  to  send  to  the  children  at  the 
Five  Points'  Mission  ;  do  you  not  ?  " 

"•  Yes,  papa." 

"  Well,  several  of  these  ladies  have  been 
asked  to  make  all  the  arrangements  for  the 
meetings,  and  to  have  everything  in  order,  so 
that  there  may  be  no  confusion  when  they 
come  together  to  sew ;  and  they  are  called  a 
committee.  Your  mamma  is  one  of  the  com- 
mittee, and  the  ladies  are  to  come  here  this 
morning.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa." 

It   was    quite  late    when   Maggie    awoke, 


1 9©  Bessie  in  the   City, 

long  past  breakfast-time,  and  after  she  was 
dressed,  she  found  her  breakfast  arranged 
for  her  in  the  doll's  tea-set,  and  Bessie  ready 
to  wait  upon  her.  But  our  poor  little  Mag- 
gie could  not  enjoy  even  this  very  much ; 
she  was  languid  and  quite  tired  out  with 
pain,  and  her  troublesome  ear  would  not  let 
itself  be  forgotten,  so  that  she  did  not  feel 
much  like  play.  Mamma  took  her  on  her 
lap,  rocked  her,  and  read  a  new  story-book, 
which  suited  much  better. 

^'I  am  sorry  that  I  shall  have  to  leave 
you  for  a  while,  dear,"  she  said.  "If  I  had 
known  that  I  was  to  have  a  little  sick  girl 
this  morning,  I  would  not  have  asked  the 
ladies  to  come  here ;  but  as  it  is,  I  must  go 
down.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  be  away  more 
than  an  hour,  and  you  will  be  patient ;  will 
you  not?     Nurse  will  take  care  of  you.'' 

"  And  I  will  yead   to  her,"  said  Bessie. 


Two  Lost  Pets.  191 

So  when  the  ladies  came,  and  mamma  had 
to  go  down-stairs,  she  laid  Maggie  on  the 
lounge  and  covered  her  up,  while  Bessie  sat 
down  close  beside  her  with  "  Yery  Little 
Tales,"  and  "Susie's  Six  Birthdays."  Jane 
had  taken  Franky  to  the  park,  and  nurse, 
seeing  Maggie  so  quiet  and  comfortable, 
thought  that  she  might  leave  her  awhile. 

"  Baby's  a  bit  fretful,"  she  said,  "  and  it's 
a  shame  to  keep  her  in  the  house  this  pleasant 
day.  I'll  just  take  her  on  the  sidewalk  for  a 
little  fresh  air.  I'll  not  go  out  of  sight,  just 
up  and  down  here  a  piece,  and  if  Maggie 
wants  anything,  you  can  come  down  and  call 
me,  Bessie.  I  know  you  are  to  be  trusted 
not  to  get  in  mischief." 

Bessie  was  rather  proud  of  being  left  to  take 
care  of  Maggie,  and  willingly  agreed  to  let 
nurse  go.  The  house  seemed  very  still  after 
she  had  taken  baby  away.     Bessie  heard  noth- 


102  Bessie  in  the   City, 

ing  but  the  sound  of  her  own  sweet  little  voice 
as  she  read  "  Susie,"  and  presently,  looking 
up,  she  saw  that  Maggie  was  fast  asleep. 

Flossy  lay  on  the  foot  of  the  lounge,  rolled 
up  into  a  round  ball,  but  with  his  bright  eyes 
wide  open,  watching  Bessie.  He  had  been 
frisking  about  Maggie  all  the  morning,  try- 
ing to  coax  her  to  a  game  of  play,  but  he 
found  it  was  of  no  use.  He  did  not  under- 
stand why  his  merry  playmate  should  be  so 
quiet,  nor  did  he  approve  of  it.  But  he  could 
not  help  it,  and  so,  like  a  wise  dog,  he  seemed 
to  have  made  up  his  mind  to  bear  it,  tliough 
he  lay  watching  and  listening  for  the  least 
sign  of  better  times. 

Bessie  laid  down  her  book,  and  sat  look- 
ing at  Maggie.  "  My  poor  Maggie,"  she  said 
to  herself,  "  she's  so  good  and  patient.  I 
wish  I  could  do  something  for  her,  and  I 
wish   Aunt  Annie  or  somebody  would   come 


Two  Lost  Pets.  193 

and  see  us  and  tell  her  a  story  while  mam- 
ma is  down-stairs.  Oh,  I  wish  Colonel  Yush 
would  come ;  he  tells  us  better  stories  than 
any  one.  Wouldn't  it  be  nice  if  he  was  to 
come  while  Maggie  is  asleep  ?  and  then  she'd 
see  him  when  she  wakes  up,  and  she'd  be 
so  glad.  If  he  knew  she  was  sick,  I'm  sure 
he  would  come.  I'll  just  go  out  on  the  side- 
walk and  ask  nursey  if  she  wont  take  mo 
over  to  the  hotel  door,  and  then  I'll  go  up 
to  my  soldier's  room  and  ask  him  to  come 
and  see  Maggie." 

She  rose  up  softly  from  her  chair  and  went 
into  the  nursery,  followed  by  Flossy,  who,  be- 
ing very  wide  awake  himself,  had  no  mind  to 
be  left  with  the  sleeping  Maggie,  and  jumped 
down  from  the  lounge  to  run  after  Bessie  as 
soon  as  she  stirred.  Bessie  went  to  the  closet 
and  took  down  her  garden-hat  and  sack 
from  the  peg  where  they  hung.     The  hat  was 

13 


194  Bessie  in  the  City, 

very  shabby,  for  it  had  been  worn  all  summef 
at  the  seashore,  and  had  seen  some  hard  use 
in  the  garden  since  she  came  home.  But  she 
could  not  reach  her  best  one,  and  said  to  her- 
self that  this  would  do,  if  nurse  would  only 
let  her  wear  it,  of  which  she  was  not  at  all 
sure.  She  put  it  on,  walked  down-stairs,  and 
out  upon  the  front  stoop;  but  she  saw  no 
sign  of  nurse.  Up  and  down  the  street  she 
looked,  but  the  old  woman  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen. 

Now  the  truth  was,  that  nurse  had  not 
intended  to  lose  sight  of  the  front-door,  but 
as  she  passed  Mr.  Hall's  house.  Miss  Carrie 
vv^as  at  the  basement  window,  and  calling  her, 
begged  that  she  would  bring  the  baby  and 
let  her  speak  to  her.  Nurse,  always  proud  to 
show  off  her  pet,  was  willing  enough,  and  for 
a  few  moments  quite  forgot  her  other  nurs- 
lings, as  well  as  the  open    front-door ;  and  it 


Two  Lost  Pets,  195 

was  just  during  these  few  mcrments  that 
Bessie  came  out  to  look  for  her. 

"  Nurse  said  she  wouldn't  go  far  away," 
said  Bessie  to  herself,  "  and  she  has,  and 
now  I  can't  go  and  find  the  colonel,  'cause 
mamma  wouldn't  like  me  to  go  alone." 

Flossy  had  run  down  to  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  and  there  he  stood,  wagging  his  tail, 
whisking  and  frisking,  and  altogether  behaving 
like  a  puppy  who  had  quite  taken  leave  of  his 
senses,  so  glad  was  he  to  be  out  of  doors. 

"  We  can't  go,  Flossy,"  said  Bessie,  as,  with 
a  sigh,  she  turned  to  go  into  the  house. 
<«  We're  \QiV^  disappointed,  but  we  must  mind 
mamma.  Come,  Flossy,  come.  Don't  you 
leave  me,  Flossy." 

But  Flossy  was  not  so  obedient  as  his  little 
mistress,  and  instead  of  coming  back,  he  ran 
a  short  distance  up  the  street,  and  then 
stopped,   barking  joyously,    and  looking  back 


196  Bessie  in  the  City, 

to  see  if  slie  were  following.  Bessie  went 
down  the  steps,  calling  him  over  and  over 
again  in  such  a  coaxing  voice,  that  it  was 
strange  even  such  a  wilful  doggie  could  resist. 
But  it  was  of  no  use.  Away  went  Flossy  as 
fast  as  he  could  run,  and  frightened  at  the 
thought  of  losing  her  pet,  and  forgetting 
everything  else,  away  went  Bessie  after  him. 
Up  to  the  end  of  the  hlock,  around  the  corner, 
and  so  down  the  other  side  of  the  square,  till 
they  came  to  the  long,  crowded  crossing,  over 
which  Bessie  was  never  allowed  to  go  without 
some  grown  person  to  hold  her  hand.  Over 
it  went  Flossy,  in  and  out  among  the  carriages 
and  omnibuses,  escaping  the  wheels  and  the 
horses'  hoofs  in  a  way  that  was  quite  wonder- 
ful to  see,  until  he  reached  the  opposite  corner, 
where  he  again  waited  for  Bessie.  But  poor 
Bessie  dared  not  cross  by  herself,  and  stood 
still  in  great  trouble. 


Two  Lost  Pets,  197 

"  I  wish  I  was  over  at  the  hotel,''  she  said 
to  herself,  as  she  looked  up  at  the  great  build 
ing  opposite,  "  and  then  the  colonel  would 
take  me  home." 

There  was  generally  a  tall  policeman  on 
the  corner,  whom  Bessie  knew  quite  well,  for 
he  had  often  taken  her  hand,  and  led  her 
over,  or  sometimes  even  carried  her  if  the 
stones  were  wet ;  but  now  he  was  not  there. 
In  his  place  was  another,  who  was  a  stranger 
to  her,  and  now  he  came  over  to  her  corner 
Bessie  went  up  to  him. 

"  Will  you  please  tell  me  where  my  police 
man  is,  sir  ?  "  she   said. 

"  Who  is  your  policeman  ?  "  said  the  officer. 

"  I  don't  know  his  name,  but  he  takes  me 
over  the  crossing,  and  mamma  don't  'low  me 
to  go  alone." 

"  I  suppose  I  can  take  you  over  as  well  as 
another,"  said  he ;  "  but   your   mother   must 


1 98  Bessie  in  the   City. 

be  a  queer  one  to  allow  you  to  go  out  alone 
at  all." 

''  She  didn't,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  I  didn't 
mean  to,  but  Flossy  yan  away,  and  I  went  to 
get  him.  Please  take  me  over  ;  I  am  afraid 
somebody  will  catch  him ;  then  I'll  go  to  the 
colonel's  yoom,  and  he'll  take  me  home." 

The  policeman  lifted  lier  up,  and  carried 
her  to  the  opposite  sidewalk.  Flossy  was  off 
again  as  soon  as  he  saw  her  near  him,  -but  the 
officer  ran  after  him,  and  soon  had  him  safe  in 
Bessie's  arms. 

''  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?  " 
said  the  good-natured  man.  ''  You're  over 
small  for  running  about  the  streets  by  your- 
self." 

"  I  am  going  to  the  colonel's,"  said  Bessie. 
"  I  know  the  way,  and  he'll  take  care  of 
me," 

She   thanked   him,    and   ran   off;  but  the 


Two  Lost  Pets,  199 

policeman  followed  till  he  saw  her  go  into  the 
hotel  as  if  she  were  quite  sure  of  her  way. 

"  She's  all  right,"  he  said  to  himself,  and 
then  went  back  to  his  post,  thinking  no  more 
about  the  little  stray  lamb  whom  he  had  only 
helped  into  farther  trouble. 

Bessie  found  her  way  without  difficulty  to 
the  colonel's  room,  and  seeing  the  door  open, 
she  peeped  in.  There  was  no  one  there  but  a 
servant-woman,  who  was  dusting. 

"  Where  is  my  soldier  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Your  soldier  ?  "  said  the  woman.  "  If 
you  mean  the  lame  gentleman,  he  and  the 
lady  have  gone  out  to  ride.  I  don't  want  you 
here  bothering  round  with  your  dogs.  Go 
back  to  your  own  rooms ;  "  for  the  woman 
supposed  Bessie  to  be  some  child  who  belonged 
Ln  the  hotel. 

"  My  soldier  lets  me  come  in  his  yoom  when 
I  choose,  and  it  isn't  yours  to  talk  about,'* 


200  Bessie  in  the  City, 

said    Bessie,   very   mucli    offended,   and   she 
walked  away  with  her  head  very  straight. 

What  should  she  do  now  ?  She  would  go 
back  to  the  corner,  she  thought,  and  ask  her 
friend,  the  policeman,  to  take  her  home.  But 
she  was  becoming  a  little  confused  and  fright- 
ened with  all  her  troubles,  and  when  she  left 
the  hotel,  turned  the  wrong  way.  On  she 
went,  farther  and  farther  from  home,  though 
she  did  not  know  it,  and  expected  every  mo- 
ment to  see  the  well-known  crossing.  Some 
few  people  turned  and  looked  at  her,  as  she 
passed  with  her  dog  clasped  in  her  arms ;  but 
she  did  not  act  at  all  like  a  lost  child,  and  it 
was  easy  enough  to  think  that  she  was  some 
little  girl  playing  about  her  home  and  per- 
haps watched  by  loving  eyes. 

At  last  she  came  near  a  broad  avenue,  where 
the  cars  were  passing  up  and  down,  and  then 
she  knew  she  was  not  on  her  way  home.     Bui 


Two  Lost  Pets,  201 

just  then  she  heard  music,  and  her  eye  was 
caught  by  a  new  sight.  Quite  a  crowd  was 
gathered  upon  the  sidewalk,  where  were  two 
men,  one  with  a  hand-organ,  the  other  with  a 
table  on  which  little  figures  of  gayly-dressed 
men  and  women  were  spinning  around.  Bes- 
sie stopped  to  look,  standing  back  from  the 
crowd ;  but  three  or  four  rough  boys  who  were 
hanging  about  took  notice  of  her  and  her  dog. 
Presently  they  came  up  to  her. 

"  Whose  dog  is  that  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  Mine  and  Maggie's,"  said  Bessie. 

"  You  give  him  to  me,  and  I'll  give  you 
this,"  said  the  boy  taking  a  large  red  apple 
from  his  pocket. 

"  I  can't  even  if  I  wanted  to,"  said  Bessie, 
"  'cause  he's  half  Maggie's." 

"  Well,  you  give  me  your  half,  and  Maggie's 
will  run  after  it." 

"No,"  said  the  little   girl.      "I    wouldn't 


202  Bessie  in  the   City, 

give  you  my  Flossy  for  fifty  seventeen  ap- 
ples ;  "  and  she  walked  away,  but  the  boys 
followed. 

'^  Where  did  you  get  so  much  hat  ? "  said 
one. 

"  It  is  not  much,"  said  Bessie.  "  It  is  old 
and  torn,  'cause  I  carried  peach-pits  and 
stones  in  it.  Mamma  is  going  to  give  it 
away." 

"  I  don't  know  who'd  thank  her  for  it," 
said  another.  "  I  guess  your  ma  spent  all  her 
money  on  your  frock,  and  left  none  for  your 
hat." 

"  She  didn't,"  said  Bessie,  angrily  ;  "  she 
has  plenty  left." 

"  She's  right  stingy,  then,  to  give  you  such  a 
hat ;  it's  only  fit  for  the  gutter,  so  here  goes  ! " 
and  the  rude  boy  twitched  off  the  unlucky 
hat,  and  sent  it  flying  into  the  middle  of  the 
street,  where  a  car  passed  over  it.     Bessie  did 


Two  Lost  Pets,  203 

not  care  much  about  her  hat,  but  she  was 
frightened  and  displeased. 

''  You  are  very  yude,"  she  said,  "  and  1 
wont  walk  by  you.  You  sha'n't  talk  so  about 
my  mamma.'*' 

"  Maybe  we'll  walk  by  you  though,"  said 
the  boy,  and  they  kept  by  her  side  for  a  few 
steps  farther,  when  suddenly,  with  a  loud 
yelp  of  pain.  Flossy  sprang  from  her  arms, 
for  one  of  the  boys  had  pinched  his  tail  so  as 
to  hurt  him  very  much.  The  boys  shouted, 
Flossy  ran,  they  after  him,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment one  of  them  caught  him  up,  and  they 
all  disappeared  with  him  round  the  corner. 

Bessie  ran  on  a  few  steps  and  then  stood 
still,  crying  loudly  with  terror  and  distress. 
Several  persons  immediately  stopped,  asking 
her  what  ailed  her,  and  if  she  were  lost ;  but 
she  only  called,  "  Oh,  Flossy,  Flossy !  oh, 
mamma  !  oh,  Maggie." 


204  Bessie  in  the  City* 

Among  the  people  who  stopped,  was  an  old 
lady,  wlio  looked  at  Bessie  through  her  specta- 
cles in  rather  a  severe  manner,  and  as  sho 
asked  questions  in  a  quick,  sharp  way,  tho 
little  girl  felt  afraid  of  her,  and  would  not  an- 
swer. Poor  lost  baby !  There  she  stood, 
bareheaded,  with  the  wind  blowing  her  curls, 
her  tiny  hands  over  her  face,  crying  so  piti- 
fully that  some  of  those  who  stood  by  felt  as 
if  they  must  cry  with  her,  but  still  no  one 
could  get  a  word  from  her. 

But  presently  a  policeman  came  by,  and 
Bessie,  looking  up,  saw  him  and  was  a  little 
comforted  ;  for  though  he,  too,  was  a  stranger, 
she  felt  somehow  as  if  every  policeman  was  a 
friend ;  and  she  ceased  her  loud  cries,  though 
her  sobs  still  came  heavy  and  fast. 

"  Here's  a  lost  child,"  said  one  of  the  crowd. 

"  Please  take  me  home,  sir,"  said  Bessie, 
stretching  out  her  liands  to  him. 


Two  Lost  Pets,  205 

The  tall  officer  was  pleased,  and,  stooping, 
lifted  the  little  creature  in  his  arms. 

"  Where  do  you  belong  ?  "  he  asked,  kindlj. 

"  In  mamma's  house,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  where  is  mamma  ?  " 

"  In  a  committee,"  answered  the  child. 

''  Humph ! "  said  the  old  lady,  who  stood 
close  at  the  policeman's  side,  "  in  a  commit- 
tee, with  a  parcel  of  other  foolish  women,  I 
suppose,  while  her  babies  go  running  wild 
about  the  streets.  She'd  better  attend  to  her 
own  affairs." 

"  She  hadn't,"  said  Bessie,  who  thought 
every  one  had  something  to  say  against  her 
own  dear  mother,  —  "  she  hadn't,  and  you  are 
naughty  to  say  that.  She's  a  nice,  pretty  lady, 
and  better  than  anybody,  and  not  a  bit  foolish  ; 
and,  oh,  I  do  want  her  so,  I  do  want  her  so  1  " 
and  she  began  to  cry  afresh. 

''  There  then,  never  mind  !  "  said  the  police- 


20()  Bessie  in  the  City. 

m'hn  ;  "  we'll  find  her  pretty  soon.  Can't  you 
tell  me  where  you  live  ?  " 

Bessie  had  long  since  been  taught  this,  but 
now,  in  her  fright  and  distress,  she  quite  for- 
got the  street  and  number  of  the  house,  and 
only  shook  her  head. 

"  Tell  me  your  name  then,"  said  the  man. 

''Bessie  —  Yush  —  Byad-ford,"  sobbed  the 
child. 

"  Brightford  —  Brightford,"  repeated  tho 
policeman.  "  Does  any  one  here  know  any 
people  of  the  name  of  Brightford  ?  " 

Poor  little  Bessie !  Between  her  sobs  and 
the  difficulty  of  pronouncing  her  r's,  the  officer 
had  quite  mistaken  the  name,  and  no  one 
answered. 

"  You'll  have  to  take  her  to  the  station- 
house,"  said  the  old  lady. 

''  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Policeman  !  Pm  not  to  be 
taken  up,  —  indeed,  I'm  not,"  said  Bessie.    "  I 


Two  Lost  Pets,  207 

wasn't  naughty,  and  mamma  wont  say  so, 
only  Flossy  yan  away,  and  tlio  colonel  wasn't 
in  his  yoom,  and  I  can't  find  my  street." 

"Poor  baby!"  said  the  policeman,  as  he 
felt  her  trembling  in  his  arms.  ''  Nobody 
shall  hurt  you,  my  child  ;  but  if  your  people 
miss  you,  they  will  send  up  to  the  station,  and 
if  I  take  you  there,  they  will  find  you  right 
off.  You  can't  tell  where  your  mamma  lives, 
hey  ? " 

"  I  sha'n't  talk  about  my  mamma,"  said 
Bessie  ;  "  everybody  says  naughty  things  about 
her  ;  but  I  want  to  go  to  her,  and  please  find 
Flossy,  Mr.  Policeman." 

"  Who  is  Flossy  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  He's  her  dog,  I  guess,"  said  a  boy  who 
stood  by.  "  Four  big  fellows  ran  away  with 
him.  I  se'ed  'em.  They  cut  up  the  alley,  and 
down  by  the  back  lots.  I  guess  you  must  cotch 
'em  in  a  hurry,  or  see  no  more  of  the  pup." 


2o8  Bessie  in  the  City, 

"  Don't  you  believe  that,"  said  the  police- 
man, as  Bessie's  tears  and  sobs  came  taster 
than  ever.  "  We'll  find  him  for  you  one  of 
these  days;  but  now  I  must  see  you  safe  ;" 
and  he  moved  on  with  the  little  girl  in  his 
arms. 

"  Do  you  think  some  one  will  come  and 
find  me  pretty  soon  ?  "  she  asked. 

''  To  be  sure  they  will.  Have  you  a  pa- 
pa?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

''Then  you  be  sure  when  he  finds  you  are 
gone,  he'll  come  right  off  to  the  station-house 
to  see  if  you  are  there.  Why,  the  other  day  I 
picked  up  a  little  chap  in  the  street  not  nigh 
as  big  as  you.  He  could  scarce  walk,  and 
couldn't  speak  a  word  plain,  and  tliere,  when 
I  got  him  to  the  station,  was  his  mother  wait- 
ing for  him." 

So  the  officer  talked  on  kindly  and  pleasant- 


Two  Lost  Pets,  209 

ly,  till  Bessie  was  a  little  comforted,  and  wliea 
they  reached  the  station,  looked  eagerly  round 
to  see  if  any  of  her  own  friends  were  there 
awaiting  her.  But  no,  there  was  no  one  there 
yet,  only  several  policemen  were  sitting  or 
standing  about,  to  one  of  whom  Bessie's  pro- 
tector spoke,  telling  him  where  he  had  found 
her.  ^ 

*'  And  now  I  am  going  back  to  my  beat," 
he  said  to  the  child,  ''and  if  any  one  comes 
that  way  looking  for  you,  I'll  send  them  right 
up  here." 

Bessie's  lip  began  to  tremble  once  more. 
She  had  been  terribly  disappointed  to  find 
that  no  one  was  waiting  for  her  ;  and  now 
here  was  her  new  friend  going  away,  and  leav- 
ing her  with  these  strangers. 

"  Don't  you  cry  any  more,"  said  the  second 
policeman,  taking  her  from  the  arms  of   the 
first.     "  Why,  those  brown  eyes  of  yours  are 
14 


2IO  Bessie  in  the   City, 

almost  washed  out.  Come  along  with  me,  and 
see  me  send  off  a  telegraph  message  to  the 
other  stations  to  say  you're  here." 

"  I  couldn't  help  crying,"  said  the  little  girl. 
"  I  had  so  many  troubles  to-day." 

"  Bless  your  heart !  "  said  the  sergeant. 
"  You  shall  tell  me  all  about  them  presently. 
Why,  you  are  just  about  the  size  of  my  Jenny, 
and  I  wouldn't  like  to  see  her  looking  that 
way." 

When  the  policeman  spoke  of  telling  him 
her  troubles,  it  came  into  Bessie's  mind  that 
she  had  not  told  them  to  her  Father  in 
heaven,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  lit- 
tle hands,  she  whispered,  "Dear  Father  in 
heaven,  please  let  my  own  home  father  come 
and  find  me  very  soon,  'cause  I'm  so  tired,  and 
I  want  my  own  mamma  ;  and  don't  let  those 
naughty  boys  hurt  my  Flossy,  and  let  papa 
find  him  too." 


Two  Lost  Pets,  211 

Tho  officer  heard  the  low,  soft  whisper  so 
close  to  his  ear,  though  she  had  not  meant  he 
should.  "  Bless  her  !  '*  he  said  to  himself,  *'  1 
guess  her  father'll  be  brought  along  pretty 
soon  after  that." 

Bessie  was  now  quite  interested  in  watching 
the  working  of  the  telegraph  wires  which  were 
put  in  motion  to  carry  the  message  that  a 
stray  child  was  to  be  found  at  this  station. 
One  of  the  men  who  had  gone  out  came  back, 
bringing  her  a  cake  and  an  apple,  but  though 
it  was  long  past  her  usual  dinner  hour,  she 
could  not  eat. 

"  Now,"  said  the  sergeant,  sitting  down  and 
putting  her  upon  his  knee,  "  let  us  hear  all 
about  those  troubles  of  yours;"  for  the  kind 
man  thought  if  he  could  make  her  talk  of  her- 
Bolf,  ho  might  find  out  where  she  belonged. 


^^^^i^^^i^^^Gy 


X. 

HOME    'AGAIN I    HOME  AGAIN! 


EANWHILE  the  stray  birdling  had 
been  missed  from  the  home-nest,  and 
great  was  the  trouble  and  alarm  there. 
Nurse,  coming  in,  found  Maggie  at  the 
head  of  the    stairs  with  a  discontented    face. 

"  What's  happened  ye  ?  "  she  asked  ;  "  and 
what  are  ye  standing  here  in  the  draught  for  ? 
Go  back  to  the  nursery,  my  honey." 

"  I  can't  find  Bessie,"  said  Maggie.  ''  I 
went  to  sleep,  and  when  I  woke  up,  she  was 
gone,  and  Flossy  was  gone  too,  and  I  looked 
all  over,  and  they  are  not  here." 

"  She  hasn't  taken  wings,  and  flown  away," 
said  nurse.  ^'  You  mind  baby  a  moment,  and 
I'll  hunt  her  up  for  you." 


Home  Again.  213 

Nurse  hunted  in  vain,  and  at  last  told  Mag- 
gie she  thought  Bessie  must  have  found  her 
way  into  the  parlor,  where  the  ladies  were 
talking.  "  She'll  soon  tire  of  it,  and  come 
back  to  you,"  she  said  ;  "  but  it  was  not  like 
her  to  go  off  and  leave  you," 

But  the  time  passed  on  ;  Jane  came  in  with 
Franky  ;  the  children's  dinner-bell  rang,  and 
still  Bessie  did  not  come.  At  last  the  ladies 
of  the  committee  went  away,  and  mamma 
came  out  of  the  parlor,  but  no  little  girl 
was  with  her.  Then  the  whole  house  was 
searched,  up-stairs  and  down,  from  cellar  to 
attic ;  but  the  pet  was  not  found. 

"  Could  her  grandmamma  or  aunt  or  Mrs. 
Rush  have  come  and  taken  her  out  ?  "  said 
Jane. 

"  They  would  not  be  so  thoughtless  ;  they 
would  know  I  should  be  anxious  if  they  left  no 


214  Bessie  in  the   City. 

word,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  who  was  growing 
very  much  alarmed. 

"  No  one  came  in  ;  for  I  did  not  have  my 
eyes  off  the  front-door  wliile  I  was  out  on  the 
sidewalk,"  said  nurse.  "  Yes,  I  did,  too,  just 
a  couple  of  minutes  while  I  spoke  to  Miss 
Hall;  but  no  one  could  have  come  in  and 
gone  out,  too,  without  my  seeing  them." 

Ah,  nurse,  nurse,  it  was  just  those  two  min- 
utes when  you  forgot  your  duty,  which  did  all 
the  mischief. 

"  And  there's  her  hat,"  said  Jane,  looking 
in  the  box.  "  Ah,  there's  her  garden  hat  and 
sack  gone.  Now  maybe  she's  just  run  out 
after  you,  nurse,  and  somebody's  caught  her 
and  run  away  with  her  when  you  wasn't  look- 
ing. I've  heard  of  such  things,  and  how  they 
make  'em  beg,  and  beat  'em  and  frighten  'em 
so  they  don't  dare  tell  where  they  belong." 

This  was  very  pleasant  for  the  poor  anxious 


Ho7ne  Again,  215 

mother,  who,  however,  told  Jane  that  was  non- 
sense ;  while  nurse,  who  knew  she  was  to 
blame  in  letting  her  attention  be  called  off, 
grew  very  angry  and  scolded  Jane,  saying  she 
must  have  seen  Bessie  if  she  left  the  house. 

Nevertheless,  Bessie  was  certainly  not  in  the 
house ;  and  one  servant  was  sent  to  grandmam- 
ma's, another  to  the  hotel,  to  see  if  any  trace 
could  be  found  of  the  missing  treasure  ;  while 
Mrs.  Bradford  herself  ran  to  all  the  neighbors, 
and  poor  Maggie  stood  by  the  window  crying 
bitterly  for  her  lost  sister.  In  a  little  time 
grandmanima  and  Aunt  Annie  were  on  the 
spot,  as  anxious  as  the  rest,  to  see  if  they  could 
help  in  the  search.  As  people  were  running 
in  all  directions,  it  seemed  to  grandmamma 
that  the  best  thing  she  could  do  was  to  comfort 
poor,  distressed  Maggie.  But  Maggie  was  not 
to  be  comforted,  and  declared  that  she  knew 
she   should  never,   never,   never    see  Bessie 


2i6  Bessie  in  the  City, 

again.  "  Oh,  I  am  so  very  sorry  I  went  to 
sleep,"  she  sobbed.  "  1  just  expect  she  went 
to  heaven  in  a  chariot  of  fire  when  no  one  was 
looking."  Grandmamma  could  not  smile  at 
Maggie's  strange  idea,  she  was  so  anxious  her 
self,  but  she  told  her  this  could  not  be  so ;  and 
that  Bessie  had  probably  run  out  in  the  street 
and  so  lost  her  way. 

"  But  Bessie  would  not  do  such  a  thing, 
grandmamma;  she  would  know  mamma  would 
not  like  it,  and  she  never  disobeys  her." 

"  Perhaps  your  mother  never  told  her  she 
was  not  to  go  out  alone,  dear,  and  so  she  was 
tempted  to  run  a  few  steps,  and  then  could 
not  find  her  way  back." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,  grandmamma.  Bessie 
knew  quite  well  mamma  would  not  wish  us  to 
go  alone  even  if  she  did  not  say  so ;  and  she 
would  think  it  was  just  the  same;  and  Bessie 
never  falls  into  temptation  except  about  pas 


Home  Again.  217 

sions.  If  it  was  me,  maybe  I  might;  and  I 
know  she'll  never  come  back ;  and  oh,  I  can- 
not do  without  her,  we  are  so  very  intimate, 
grandmamma." 

Grandmamma  said  she  was  almost  sure 
Bessie  would  soon  be  found,  and  told  Maggie 
how  well  everything  was  arranged  at  the  police- 
stations,  so  that  if  a  little  child  was  lost,  it 
could  soon  be  restored  to  its  friends.  Still 
Maggie  only  shook  her  head  sorrowfully,  feel- 
ing it  quite  impossible  to  believe  that  Bessie 
had  gone  away  of  her  own  free  will. 

Then  Mrs.  Bradford  came  in,  looking  very 
pale  and  troubled,  for  she  could  hear  nothing 
of  her  lost  baby ;  but  a  moment  after,  Patrick 
came  with  news.  The  policeman  at  the  corner 
told  how  he  had  helped  a  little  girl  over  the 
crossing,  and  seen  her  safe  in  the  hotel  and 
that  she  had  said  she  was  going  to  see  tho 
colonel ;  but   that   he  could  tell  nothing  far- 


2i8  Bessie  in  the   City. 

ther.  Patrick  had  gone  to  the  colonel's  rooms, 
but  they  were  closed  and  locked ;  and  he 
heard  that  the  colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush  had 
been  out  for  a  long  while. 

Hearing  this,  Mrs.  Bradford  and  her  sister 
went  round  to  the  hotel,  and  giving  the  alarm, 
the  great  building  was  searched  from  top  to 
bottom.  Every  room  and  closet,  every  hall 
and  corridor,  even  the  roof,  and  the  cellar  far 
underground  where  the  gas  was  made,  were 
looked  througli ;  but  still  no  Bessie.  But 
when  the  servants  were  questioned,  the  woman 
who  had  spoken  to  Bessie  told  how  she  had 
come  to  the  colonel's  room,  and  then  walked  off. 

"  She  has  probably  wandered  out  again, 
madam,"  was  said  to  the  pale  mother  by  one 
of  the  gentlemen  who  had  been  helping  in  the 
search  ;  "  and  now  you  had  better  at  once 
send  to  the  police-station,  and  give  notice  of 
her  loss." 


Home  Again,  219 

As  Mrs.  Bradford  was  leaving  the  hotel  to 
do  this,  the  colonel  and'  Mrs.  Rush  drove  up. 
In  two  minutes  they  had  heard  all  that  was 
known,  and  the  colonel  said  he  would  him- 
self go  to  the  station. 

The  station  to  which  Bessie  had  been  taken 
was  not  the  one  nearest  to-  Mr.  Bradford's 
house  ;  and  it  was  to  the  latter  that  the  colonel 
drove  first.  He  did  not  find  his  lost  pet  there, 
of  course  ;  but  he  heard  that  a  telegram  had 
come   sometime    since,    saying   that    a    stray 

child  was  at  the  station  in Street,  and 

there  he  went  as  fast  as  his  horse's  feet  could 
carry  him. 

We  left  the  Uttle  girl  who  had  caused  all 
this  commotion  sitting  upon  the  knee  of  the 
kind  sergeant  of  police,  while  he  coaxed  her 
to  tell  him  the  story  of  her  troubles,  in  the 
hope  that  he  might  find  out  where  sue  be- 
longed. 


220  Bessie  in  the  City, 

"  You  don't  look  big  enouglr  for  such  a 
many  troubles,"  he  said ;  "  now  let's  hear 
about  them,  and  see  what  we  can  do.  What 
was  the  first  one  ?  " 

"  First  Maggie  had  a  earache  and  cried  ; 
and  then  mamma  had  a  committee,  and  had 
to  leave  us  ;  and  then  I  could  not  find  nurse, 
and  Flossy  yan  away,"  said  Bessie  ;  and  the 
poor  child  began  to  cry  again  at  the  thought 
of  Flossy. 

"  And  who  is  Flossy  ?  "  asked  the  sergeant. 

"  He  is  our  puppy  that  Donald  gave  us,  — 
Maggie's  and  mine." 

"  And  who  is  Maggie  ?  " 

"  My  own  sister ;  don't  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  did  not,"  said  the  policeman. 
"  What  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Maggie  Stanton  Byadford,"  said  the  child. 

"  And  what  is  yours  ?  " 

''  Bessie  Yush  Byadford." 


Home  Agahu  221 

The  policeman  shook  his  head ;  still  he 
could  make  nothing  of  the  name. 

"  And  when  Flossy  ran  away,  you  ran  after 
him,  did  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  but  I  didn't  mean  to,  sir;  I  forgot 
mamma  wouldn't-  want  me  to,  and  Flossy  yan 
so  fast.  He  went  'way  over  the  long  crossing, 
and  our  policeman  was  not  there." 

"  Who's  your  policeman  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  his  name,  only  he  helps  us 
over  the  long  crossing,  when  we  want  to  go  to 
the  hotel." 

"  Ho,  ho,  I  think  we  are  coming  at  it,"  said 
the  sergeant.     "  What  hotel  is  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  hotel  where  the  colonel  lives," 
said  Bessie,  as  if  there  could  be  but  one  hotel 
and  one  colonel.  "  I  thought  mamma  would 
not  like  me  to  go  home  by  myself,  and  I  asked 
that  other  policeman  wliom  I  did  not  know  to 
take  me  over,  so  I  could  go  ask  the  colonel  to 


222  Bessie  in  the   City, 

send  mo  home.  But  he  was  out,  and  a 
woman  scolded  me,  and  so  I  went  away,  and 
the  crossing  wouldn't  come,  and  the  boys  were 
naughty  and  yude,  and  Flossy's  gone  —  oh, 
dear !  oh,  dear !  I  do  want  my  own  house 
and  my  own  mamma ;  and  everybody  said 
naughty  things  about  mamma." 

"  There,  then,  don't  cry  any  more,"  said 
the  policeman.  "  I  think  that  must  be  the 
hotel,  and  you  can't  tell  me  what  street  you 
live  in  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  can,"  said  Bessie,  who  quite 
forgot  that  she  had  not  been  able  to  tell  where 
she  lived  while  she  had  been  so  frightened. 
"  I  live  in  papa's  house  in Street,  Num- 
ber — ,  and  I  want  to  go  home  so  much." 

"  So  you  shall,  right  off,  now  that  you  have 
told  me  where  you  belong,"  said  the  police- 
man.    "  I'll  send,  and  see  if  you  are  right." 

But  just  as  he    turned  to  speak  to  one  of 


Home  Agam.  223 

the  men,  an  open  carriage  drove  quickly  to 
the  door.  Bessie  looked  around,  then  gave 
a  scream  of  joy. 

"  Oh,  it's  my  soldier,  my  own  dear  soldier  ! 
He  came  and  found  me  —  oh,  he  did,  he  did  !" 

In  less  time  than  it  would  have  been 
thought  possible,  the  colonel  had  been  helped 
out,  and  was  within  the  room.  Bessie  almost 
sprang  out  of  the  policeman's  arms,  and  clung 
about  the  colonel's  neck,  while  he,  dropping 
one  crutch,  steadied  himself  on  the  other, 
and  held  her  fast  with  the  arm  that  was  free. 
It  was  touching  to  see,  as,  half  laughing,  half 
crying,  she  poured  out  broken  words  of  love 
and  joy,  now  covering  his  face  with  kisses, 
now  burying  her  own  on  his  shoulder,  then 
lifting  it  again  to  lay  her  soft  cheek  to  his  and 
pat  it  with  her  tiny  hand.  Colonel  Rush  was 
almost  as  much  overjoyed  as  she,  but  he  was 
in  haste  to  carry  the  recovered  treasure  to  her 


2  24  Bessie  in  the   City, 

anxious  mother.  Nor  was  Bessie  in  less  haste 
to  be  at  home ;  but  for  all  that,  she  did  not 
forget  to  speak  her  thanks  to  those  who  had 
been  kind  to  her,  going  from  one  to  another, 
and  shaking  hands  with  them  in  her  own 
polite  little  way.  The  sergeant  carried  her 
out  and  put  her  in  the  carriage. 

*'  Good-by,"  she  said,  giving  him  her  hand, 
*'  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  letting 
me  come  in  your  nice  station-house,  and  for 
speaking  so  kind  to  me." 

"  Bless  your  heart,"  said  the  man,  "  if  it 
wasn't  for  your  own  sake,  I'd  be  sorry  enough 
to  part  with  you.  Now  don't  you  go  and  lose 
yourself  again." 

*'  I  did  not  lose  myself,"  said  Bessie  ;  *'  I 
just  came  lost,  I  did  not  mean  to  do  it.'* 

"  I  don't  believe  you  did,"  said  the  man ; 
"  good-by  to  you." 

Then   the    colonel  put  something  into  his 


Home  Again,  225 

hand,  and  thcj  drove  homo  as  fast  as  possible. 
Oh,  what  joy  thcro  was  over  the  little  darling 
who  had  been  so  long  away  !  Mamma  held 
her  fast  and  cried  over  her;  it  seemed  as  if 
she  could  never  let  her  go  out  of  her  arms 
again  ;  Maggie  jumped  about  and  clapped  her 
hands,  and  kissed  Bessie's  face,  hands,  dress, 
and  even  her  feet ;  Franky  did  as  he  saw 
Maggie  do,  saying,  ''  Bessie  tome,  all  nice 
now."  Grandmamma,  Aunt  Annie,  and  Mrs. 
Rush  were  quite  as  much  rejoiced,  and  the 
very  servants  had  to  take  part  in  the  welcome. 
Even  the  new  cook,  whom  the  children  scarce- 
ly knew,  had  to  come  in  for  a  peep  at  the  dear 
little  cause  of  all  this  excitement.  Then 
papa,  who  had  been  sent  for,  that  he  might 
help  in  the  search  for  his  lost  daughter,  came 
•liome  to  find  the  sorrowino;  changed  into  re- 
joicing,  and  Bessie  running  to  the  front- door 
to  meet  him,  saying, — 
15 


226  Bessie  in  the   City, 

"  I  am  quite  found  papa.  I  asked  our 
Father  to  let  you  find  me,  and  he  sent  the 
colonel  instead,  but  that  was  just  as  good 
when  he  brought  me  home  ;  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Quite  as  good,  perhaps  even  better,  dar- 
ling, since  dear  mamma  was  spared  another 
hour  of  anxiety,  and  you  one  of  waiting. 
Our  heavenly  Father  often  does  better  for  us 
than  we  ask,  although  we  may  not  always 
know  it." 

"  And  you  don't  think  I  was  naughty;  do 
you,  papa  ?     Mamma  does  not." 

"  I  must  hear  the  story  first ;  but  now  let 
me  thank  our  good,  kind  colonel,  who  has 
put  himself  to  some  trouble  I  am  sure,  to  find 
you." 

When  Mr.  Bradford  had  heard  Bessie's 
story,  which  she  told  in  her  own  straightfor- 
ward way,  he  satisfied  her  by  saying  that  he 
did  not  think  her  in  the  least  naughty,  since 


Home  jigatn.  227 

he  was  sure  she  had  not  meant  to  disobey. 
Ho  would  not  consent  that  grandmamma  and 
Aunt  Annie,  and  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush 
should  go  home  to  dinner  ;  tliey  must  all  stay 
and  have  a  great  jubilee  over  the  happy 
ending  to  Bessie's  adventures.  And  oh,  such 
a  pleasure !  The  children  were  allowed  to 
take  dinner  with  the  grown  people,  a  treat 
which  was  only  granted  on  great  occasions. 

"  It's  just  like  the  man  in  the  Bible,  who 
lost  his  sheep  and  found  it,  and  called  all  his 
friends  to  come  and  be  glad,  and  have  a  nice 
time  with  him,"  said  Maggie,  "  only  we're  a 
great  deal  more  glad  than  that  man,  be- 
cause our  Bessie  is  a  great  deal  better  than 
the  sheep,  and  we  don't  have  ninety  and  nine, 
either." 

"  No,"  said  papa,  "  we  have  only  one  Bessie 
and  one  Maggie,  and  a  very  good  Maggie  and 
Bessie  they  are  of   their  kind.     I  would  not 


228  Bessie  in  the   City, 

change    them    for    any  otliers    that  could   be 
offered  to  me.     How  is  the  ear,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  'most  well,  papa.  When  I  felt  so 
bad  about  Bessie,  I  forgot  about  it,  and  when 
I  was  so  glad,  the  pain  just  went  away  before 
I  knew  it." 

"  So  the  greater  trouble  cured  the  lesser, 
eh?"  .^ 

"  But,  papa,"  said  Bessie,  "  we  have  a  great, 
great  trouble  with  all  our  happiness.  You 
know  Flossy  is  quite  lost,  and  we'll  never  have 
him  to  play  with  again." 

"  I  am  not  sure  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford ;  "  I  shall  go  to-morrow  and  see  what  I 
can  do  to  find  him.  Still  I  have  not  much 
hope,  and  you  must  not  think  too  much  about 
it." 

"  You  mean  you  will  do  all  you  can,  papa," 
said  Bessie,  sorrowfully,  "  but  probaly  we  will 
never  see  our  dear  Flossy  again." 


Home  Again,  229 

"  Never  mind,  Bessie,"  said  Maggie,  ten- 
derly ;  "  it  is  not  very  much  matter  if  we  don't. 
We  have  you  back  again,  so  we've  no  reason 
to  complain." 

Dear,  generous-hearted  little  Maggie  !  She 
would  not  say  how  badly  she  felt  about  Flossy, 
lest  Bessie  should  think  she  blamed  her  for 
his  loss,  but  it  was  a  great  trial  to  her,  as  her 
father  knew.  She  was  more  fond  of  him  than 
Bessie  was,  and  Flossy  cared  more  for  her 
than  he  did  for  any  one  else.  Never  were 
two  merrier  playfellows,  and  their  droll  antics 
and  frolics  were  a  source  of  great  amusement 
to  the  whole  family.  And  now  he  was  gone, 
perhaps  never  to  come  back ;  and  Maggie's  lit- 
tle heart  was  very  ,sore,  though  she  said  noth- 
ing of  her  grief.  Thoughtless  she  often  was, 
but  never  where  Bessie  was  concerned ;  she 
never  forgot  her  little  sister's  happiness  or- 
comfort,  and  would  bear  anything  herself  if  so 


230  Bessie  in  the  City* 

she  might  keep  harm  or  trouble  from  Bessie. 
Her  father  knew  this,  and  why  she  spoke  as  if 
she  did  not  care  much  about  Flossy,  and  he 
loved  her  the  better  for  it,  for  he  saw  that  it 
was  hard  work  for  her  to  keep  back  the  tears. 
He  put  his  arm  about  her,  and  kissed  her  ten- 
derly, as  he  began  to  talk  of  other  things. 

Quite  late  that  night,  when  Mrs.  Bradford 
went  up-stairs,  she  heard  a  low  sobbing  from 
the  room  opening  out  of  her  own,  where  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie  slept,  each  in  her  own  pretty 
little  bed. 

"  What  is  it,  my  darling  ?  "  she  asked,  go- 
ing in.     "  Is  your  ear  feeling  badly  again  ?  " 

"  Not  so  very,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  but 
—  please  put  your  head  down  close,  mamma, 
so  Bessie  wont  wake  up  —  I  do  feel  so  very, 
very  badly  about  Flossy.  If  I  knew  somebody 
had  him  who  would  be  kind  to  him,  I  think  I  - 
could  try  to  bear  it,  but  I  know  they  will  hurt 


Home  Agam.  231 

him  and  tease  him,  and  he'll  have  nuch  a  hard 
time.  I  know  he'll  be  homesick,  too  —  oh, 
dear  —  and  I  can't  go  to  sleep,  'cause  I  think 
so  much  about  him,  and  I  don't  want  Bessio 
to  know  it." 

Mamma  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  comforted 
Maggie,  and  then,  holding  her  hand,  began  to 
tell  her  a  story  which  she  took  care  not  to 
make  too  interesting,  until  presently  the  little 
hand  which  held  her  own  loosened  its  grasp, 
and  Maggie's  regular  breathing  showed  that 
she  had  forgotten  her  trouble. 

All  this  made  Mr.  Bradford  resolve  that 
he  would  spare  no  pains  to  recover  Flossy, 
and  the  next  morning  he  went  to  the  police- 
station,  and  asking  the  name  and  beat  of  the 
man  who  had  brought  in  his  little  daughter, 
went  in  search  of  him.  He  was  soon  found, 
and  told  wnere  he  had  met  Bessie  ;  but  he 
had  been  able  to  learn  nothing  of  the  lost  dog. 


232  Bessie  in  the  City. 

^[r.  Bradford  inquired  all  about  the  neiglibor* 
hood  ill  vain  ;  the  boys  whom  he  met  either 
could  not  or  would  not  answer  his  questions. 
He  offered  a  reward  to  whoever  could  tell 
anything  that  would  lead  to  the  recovery  of 
the  dog,  and  when  he  went  down  town,  put 
an  advertisement  in  the  papers  saying  the 
same  thing. 

But  three  days  passed,  and  still  no  word 
came  of  Flossy.  On  the  fourth  morning,  the 
family  were  all  at  breakfast,  when  Patrick,  who 
was  passing  through  the  hall,  heard  a  scratch- 
ing and  whining  at  the  front-door.  He  hur- 
ried to  open  it,  and  Flossy  rushed  in,  ran 
through  the  hall  into  the  breakfast-room,  and 
before  any  one  had  recovered  from  their  first 
rsurprise,  scrambled  into  Maggie's  lap,  buried 
iiis  face  under  her  arm,  and  lay  trembling  and 
'whimpering  with  joy.  Poor  little  fellow  !  he 
isfasia.a  sad  state.    His  glossy  silken  coat  was 


Hofne  Again,  233 

all  matted  and  dirty ;  he  looked  thin  and  half- 
starved  ;  his  pretty  red  collar,  with  its  brass 
lettering,  was  gone,  and  around  his  neck  the 
hair  was  rubbed  off,  as  if  it  had  been  worn  by 
a  rope,  and  his  mouth  was  cut  and  bleeding. 
Papa  said  he  tliought  he  had  been  tied  up, 
and  in  his  struggles  to  free  himself,  had 
worn  the  hair  from  his  neck,  and  cut  his 
mouth  with  gnawing  at  the  rope. 

The  children  cried  and  laughed  over  him 
by  turns,  hugged  and  kissed  him,  and  al- 
though it  was  against  mamma's  rules  to  feed 
him  in  the  dining-room,  begg'ed  that  they 
might  do  it  for  this  once.  Permission  was 
given,  and  then  they  wanted  to  stuff  him 
with  everything  that  was  on  the  table ;  but 
mamma  said  they  must  be  careful,  or  he 
would  be  sick,  so  a  saucer  of  warm  bread  and 
milk  was  brought  and  put  on  the  hearth,  and 


234  Bessie  in  the  Gtty. 

glad  enougli  the  poor  puppy  was  to  have  it. 
But  he  would  not  eat  unless  Maggie's  hand 
was  on  him,  and  every  now  and  then  he  would 
stop  to  look  up  in  her  face  with .  a  low  whine, 
as  if  he  wanted  to  tell  her  his  pitiful  story. 
Afterwards  he  was  well  washed,  and  then, 
wrapped  in  his  blanket,  went  to  sleep  in  Mag- 
gie's lap.  He  woke  up  quite  refreshed,  but 
for  a  day  or  two,  did  not  care  to  play  much, 
content  to  lie  most  of  the  time  in  Maggie's  or 
Bessie's  arms,  or  curled  up  in  a  ball  in  some 
comfortable  corner.  But  after  this  long  rest, 
and  several  good  meals,  to  say  nothing  of  a 
great  amount  of  petting,  he  began  to  bark 
and  act  like  himself,  and  was  once  more  the 
bright,  merry,  affectionate  plaything  he  had 
been  before. 

Where  he  had  been,  or  how  he  had  escaped 
from  those  who    had  treated  him  so  cruelly, 


Home  Again,  235 

was  never  known,  but  every  one  thought  it 
quite  wonderful  that  so  young  a  dog,  and  one 
who  had  been  such  a  short  time  in  the  house, 
could  have  found  his  way  home  alone. 


WWWWWWWWWWi 


XI 


I^BW  PLAINS. 

HINGS  went  very  smoothly  and  pleas- 
antly after  this  for  several  weeks. 
Maggie  finished  the  whole  number  of  towels, 
and  she  had  taken  so  much  pains,  and  they 
were  so  well  done  for  a  little  girl  of  seven,  that 
mamma  said  she  thought  she  must  give  her  six 
cents  apiece  instead  of  five.  Bessie's  small 
patient  fingers  were  learning  to  do  nicely,  too, 
and  Mrs.  Bradford  said  she  should  soon  have 
two  neat  young  seamstresses.  There  were  now 
more  than  four  dollars  in  the  box.  They  had 
each  had  one  new  pair  of  gloves  bought  for 
them,  and  it  was  not  likely,  if  these  were  not 
lost,  that  more  would  be  wanted  before  New 
Year.     Maggie  had  improved  surprisingly  in 


New  Plans.  237 

the  matter  of  boot-laces,  and  now  did  not 
wear  them  out  much  faster  than  Bessie,  who 
did  not  put  on  her  own  shoes.  Growing  daily 
more  careful  in  this  one  thing,  she  became  so 
in  others.  Fewer  buttons  and  strings  were 
dragged  from  her  clothes,  her  aprons  and 
dresses  were  not  so  soon  soiled,  and  her  hat, 
mstcad  of  being  tossed  down  in  any  spot 
where  she  happened  to  be  when  she  took  it 
off,  was  always  carried  to  the  nursery  and 
given  to  Jane,  that  she  might  put  it  away. 

Quite  often  the  children  had  small  presents 
of  money.  Grandmamma  Duncan  or  Uncle 
John,  papa  or  grandpapa,  would  give  them  a 
new  five  or  ten  cent  piece,  —  once  Uncle  John 
had  given  them  each  twenty-five,  —  but  they 
never  spent  it  for  their  own  pleasure.  As 
soon  as  they  received  any  such  little  gift, 
away  they  ran  for  the  library-box,  and  popped 
the  money  in.     One  day  Maggie  found  ten 


238  Bessie  in  the   City, 

cents  in  the  street,  and  came  rushing  in  to 
her  mother's  room  with  it. 

"  Sec  here,  mamma,"  she  said,  "  what  I 
have  found  I  It  was  lying  right  down  by  our 
stooj^,  and  there  was  no  one  near  it,  and  I 
don't  know  whose  it  is." 

"  Well,  if  you  do  not  find  the  owner,  we 
may  think  you  have  a  right  to  it,  I  suppose,'* 
said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  But,  mamma,  ought  we  not  to  put  it  in 
the  paper  first,  and  sec  if  any  one  comes  for 
it?" 

"  No,  dear,  that  would  not  be  worth  while 
for  such  a  small  sum." 

"  But,  mamma,  when  papa  found  that  pock- 
et-book with  money  in  it,  he  put  a  piece  in 
the  paper,  so  the  person  who  lost  it  would 
know  where  it  was." 

"  There  were  more  than  a  hundred  dollars 
in   that  pocket-book,   Maggie.      It   was   only 


JYew  Plans*  239 

right  that  papa  should  let  the  owner  know 
where  it  was  to  be  found.  But  ten  cents  is  a 
very  small  sum,  and  if  he  put  half  a  dozen 
advertisements  in  the  paper,  it  is  not  at  all 
likely  that  any  person  would  come  for  it." 

'*  And  no  one  came  for  the  money  in  the 
pocket-book,"  said  Maggie,  "  though  papa  kept 
it  a  great  while.  But,  mamma,  he  said  it  did 
not  belong  to  him ;  and  since  he  could  find 
no  owner,  he  should  think  it  belonged  to  the 
Lord.  So  he  gave  it  to  the  Sunday-school. 
Well  now,  if  I  do  not  know  who  lost  this  ten 
cents,  do  you  not  think  it  belongs  to  the  Lord, 
and  I  ought  to  return  it  to  him?  '* 

*'  Perhaps  you  ought,  my  darling,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford,  well  pleased  to  find  her  little  girl 
so  strictly  honest,  and  so  unwilhng  to  keep 
that  which  she  could  not  quite  surely  feel  was 
her  own.  "  Suppose  you  put  it  with  your 
library  money  ?  " 


240  Bessie  in  the   City. 

"Would  that  be  quite  fair,  mamma? 
Would  it  be  giving  to  the  Lord  that  which  be- 
longed to  him  to  put  it  with  that  money  which 
we  are  to  earn  ?  " 

"  Quite  fair  and  right,  I  think,  dearest. 
That  money  you  have  certainly  devoted  to  the 
Lord's  work;  and  you  may  put  this  with  it 
with  a  clear  conscience." 

So  the  ten  cents  were  added  to  the  sum  in 
the  box,  which,  in  one  way  and  another,  was 
fast  growing  to  the  desired  amount. 

Each  Sunday  Maggie  and  Bessie  went  over 
to  the  hotel  to  Mrs.  Rush's  class.  Not  one 
had  they  missed,  for  they  counted  so  much 
upon  it  that  their  mother  could  not  bear  to 
keep  them  at  home,  even  in  bad  weather. 
Two  or  three  Sabbaths  had  been  very  rainy, 
but  papa  had  wrapped  Bessie  in  mamma's 
water-proof  cloak,  and  carried  her  over  to  the 
hotel,   while   Maggie,  in  her  own  cloak  and 


New  Plans.  241 

high  india-rubber  boots,  trotted  along  by  his 
side  holding  the  large  parasol,  wliich  made  a 
capital  umbrella  for  the  small  figure  beneath  it. 
Two  bright  little  faces  they  were  wliich  peeped 
forth  from  the  hoods  of  tliese  water-proofs 
when  they  appeared  in  Mrs.  Rush's  parlor, 
and  dearly  did  she  and  the  colonel  love  to  see 
them.  Then  the  wrappings  were  pulled  off, 
and  there  were  the  two  darlings  as  warm  and 
dry  as  if  they  had  never  stirred  from  their 
own  nursery  fire. 

Mrs.  Rush  still  did  all  the  teaching  herself, 
but  since  that  first  Sunday,  she  had  quite 
given  up  the  office  of  story-teller  to  her  hus- 
band. She  never  could  invent  such  stories  as 
he  did,  she  said,  and  since  he  had  begun  with 
it,  he  had  better  go  on !  So  each  Sunday  he 
had  one  ready  for  them,  and  when  the  lessons 
were  over,  teacher  and  scholars  were  alike 
eager  to  listen.     He  had  to  repeat  "  Benito  " 


242  Bessie  in  the   City, 

more  than  once,  so  fond  were  they  all  of  it, 
and  the  children,  especially  Bessie,  would  stop 
him  if  he  told  it  in  any  way  different  from 
that  in  which  they  had  first  heard  it,  and  tell 
him  he  was  wrong.  They  remembered  it,  he 
said,  better  than  he  did. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  were  very  busy  just  now. 
Christmas  was  drawing  near,  and  they  were 
each  working  a  book-mark  which  were  to  be 
presented  to  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush.  Bessie's 
was  for  "  her  soldier,"  and  Maggie's  for  his 
wife.  Aunt  Annie  had  promised  to  show 
them  how  they  were  to  be  worked,  and  one 
afternoon  took  them  out  to  buy  the  materials. 
They  came  home  each  with  a  piece  of  card- 
board, a  skein  of  silk,  and  half  a  yard  of  rib 
bon  ;  and  no  lady  who  had  spent  hundreds  of 
dollars  that  day  took  half  the  pleasure  in  hct 
shopping  that  our  little  girls  did  in  theirs. 

Aunt  Annie  had  offered  to  give  them  what 


J^feiv  Plans,  243 

they  needed  from  her  stock  of  pretty  thmgs. 
But  no,  they  must  buy  all  with  their  own 
money,  or  it  would  not  be  quite  their  own 
presents.  As  soon  as  their  walking  dresses 
w^ere  taken  off,  Aunt  Annie  was  coaxed  to 
show  them  at  once  how  the  book-marks  were 
to  be  made.  She  told  them  they  must  first 
decide  what  mottoes  they  would  work,  and 
proposed  several.  Maggie  chose,  "  Remember 
me  ;  "  and  Bessie,  "  I  love  you,  Sir."  Annie 
said  it  was  not  the  fashion  to  put  "  Sir  "  on  a 
book-mark  ;  but  Bessie  thought  it  would  not 
be  at  all  tlie  thing  for  little  girls  to  give  "  un 
polite  presents." 

"  We  ought  to  make  our  book-marks  just 
^s  proper  as  our  own  speaking,"  she  insisted. 

Maggie  was  a  little  doubtful ;  but  at  last 
she  said  she  would  do  as  Bessie  did,  since  it 
was  "  better  to  be  too  polite  than  not  poHto 
enough."    So  Aunt  Annie  let  them  havo  their 


244  Bessie  in  the  City* 

way,  and  greatly  to  her  own  amusement,  cut 
the  card  long  enough  for ''I  love  you,  Sir," 
and  "  Remember  me,  ma'am. '*  They  did  not 
think  it  any  the  less  their  own  work  that  their 
aunt  put  the  points  of  the  needles  into  the 
holes  where  they  were  to  go.  Did  they  not 
pull  them  through  with  their  own  fingers  and 
draw  the  silk  to  its  proper  place  ?  Of  course, 
it  was  their  own  work ;  Aunt  Annie  would  not 
have  said  it  was  hers  on  any  account.  After 
two  or  three  letters  were  made,  Maggie  learned 
to  find  the  right  hole  for  herself  with  a  good 
deal  of  direction. 

Before  bed-time  that  night,  Maggie  had 
worked  " Eemem,"  and  Bessie,  "I  lo ;  "  and 
they  looked  at  what  they  had  done  with 
great  satisfaction.  Besides  these  book-marks, 
they  were  each  to  work  one  for  papa  or 
mamma,  so  that  they  had  enough  to  keep 
them  busy  until  Chri§|mas. 


j}^ew  Plafis.  24s 

MeanwhUe  the  picture  which  Aunt  Helen 
was  painting  was  nearly  finished.  She  had 
never  allowed  Maggie  to  see  it,  which  the  little 
girl  thought  very  strange ;  but  she  had  kept 
the  secret  well.  Sometimes  they  went  to 
Riverside,  and  sometimes  Aunt  Helen  came 
to  grandmamma's  house,  when  they  would  be 
sent  for ;  and  if  mamma  was  not  there,  their 
aunt  would  paint  very  industriously.  Bessie 
wondered  why  she  would  not  let  them  see 
what  she  was  painting,  and  why  Maggie  should 
always  be  so  full  of  glee  at  such  times,  and 
shake  her  head  so  very  wisely.  But  after  she 
had  been  once  told  that  it  was  a  secret,  she 
asked  no  more  questions. 

On  the  morning  after  the  book-marks  were 
commenced,  Mrs.  Bradford,  who  was  not  very 
well,  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  while  her  little 
daughters  were  playing  quietly  ou  the  other 


24^  Bessie  in  the   City, 

side  of  the  room,  and  she  heard .  tliem  talk- 
ing together. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  am  so  glad  that 
I  have  all  my  towels  done,  so  I  can  have  leis- 
ure to  make  my  Christmas  presents." 

"  What  does  leisure  mean  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

^'  It  means  not  to  be  busy." 

"Oh,  I  am  glad,  too,  Maggie!  You  was 
very  industrious,  and  had  a  great  deal  of 
per-se-were." 

"  Ance,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Ance  what,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Per-se-ve-rance.  That's  what  you  must 
say,"  said  Maggie. 

"  No.  This  morning  Fred  was  mad  'cause 
he  couldn't  do  his  sum,  and  he  asked  papa  to 
help  him,  and  papa  said  he  must  persevt^ere, 
and  he  could  do  it  himself." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  it  ia 
persevere  to  do  it,  and  perseverance  to  have  it." 


New  Plans,  247 

Bessie  did  not  quite  understand,  but  she 
thought  it  must  be  right,  since  Maggie  said  so. 

"  We'll  ask  mamma  about  it  when  she  feels 
better,"  said  Maggie.  "  Isn't  she  good  to 
us,  Bessie,  to  help  us  so  much  to  get  our 
library  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  she's  such  a  precious 
mamma.  I  do  think  every  one  is  so  kind  to 
us,  Maggie." 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie,  "  when  I.  think  about 
my  friends,  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  say  '  God 
bless  them  '  enough." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  thoughtfully  ;  "  and 
when  everybody  is  so  good  to  us,  and  Our 
Father  is  so  good  to  us,  and  we  have  such 
pleasant  times,  I  suppose  we  ought  to  be  the 
best  children  that  ever  lived." 

"  But  we're  not,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  least,  I'm 
not.  I  think  you  are  almost  as  good  as  any 
one  that  ever  lived,  Bessie." 


248  Bessie  in  the  City* 

"  Xo,  I'm  not,  Maggie.  Sometimes  I  feel 
very  nauglity,  and  just  like  being  in  a  passion, 
and  I  have  to  ask  Jesus  very  much  to  help 
me." 

''  It's  a  great  deal  better  to  feel  naughty, 
and  not  be  naughty,  than  to  feel  naughty,  and 
bo  naughty,  too,  Bessie.  Anyhow,  you're 
just  good  enough  for  me." 

"  But  we  ought  to  be  good  enough  for 
Jesus,"  said  Bessie.  "  I  wish  I  was  as  good 
as  that  boy  named  Nathan  Something,  that 
Harry  yead  to  us  about  on  Sunday." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Maggie,  "  it's  all  very  well 
to  read  about  these  wonderful  children,  but 
when  one  comes  to  do  it,  it's  a  different  thing. 
I  don't  believe  that  any  one  could  be  so  good 
as  never  to  do  or  to  think  a  wrong  thing. 
But,  Bessie,  you  know,  I  will  be  quite  sorry 
when  mamma  don't  give  ns  glove-money  any 
more.     I  think  this  plan  has  been  of  service  to 


«  New  Plans,  249 

me  in  my  carelessness.  Don't  you  think  Fm 
pretty  tol-able  now  ?  " 

"  Not  pretty,"  said  Bessie ;  "  I  think  you 
are  very  tol'able  now.  Why,  Maggie,  don't 
you  know  papa  said  he  could  trust  you  to 
take  a  message  or  do  an  errand  now  as  soon 
as  any  of  his  children  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  and  it  was  very  nice  to  hear  him 
say  that,  Bessie.  I  didn't  mind  for  all  the 
trouble  I  took  to  be  careful,  when  he  said  it. 
When  we  have  our  glove-money,  it  will  make 
more  than  six  dollars  in  our  box,  if  mamma 
don't  have  to  spend  any  of  it  for  us.  We 
only  want  five  for  the  library,  so  what  shall 
we  do  with  the  rest  of  it,  Bessie.  Mamma 
said  we  must  only  spend  that  money  in  doing 
good." 

"  Perhaps  mamma  will  tell  us  something," 
said  Bessie.       , 

"  But  I'd  like  to  think  of  something  our- 


250  Bessie  in  the   City,  ^ 

selves,  and  I  did  think  of  a  nice  thing,  Bessie, 
if  3'ou  would  like  to  do  it." 

"  I  guess  I  would.  Tell  me,  Maggie." 
*'  Yesterday,  when  Mary  Bent  came  here, 
she  had  on  only  a  thin  little  cape,  that  did 
not  keep  her  warm  at  all,  and  she  looked  so 
cold,  nurse  asked  her  if  that  was  the  warmest 
thing  she  had,  and  she  said  yes.  So  nurse 
brought  an  old  piece  of  flannel,  and  basted  it 
all  inside  the  cape  to  make  it  warmer ;  but 
she  said  the  child  ought  to  have  a  thick  cloak 
or  shawl,  and  if  mamma  was  home,  she  knew 
she  would  do  something  for  her.  Mary  said 
her  mother  had  a  warm  shawl,  but  when  the 
weather  was  cold,  they  had  to  keep  it  to  put 
over  Jemmy,  'cause  he  shivered  so  if  he  was 
not  covered  up  warm.  I  felt  so  sorry  for  her, 
and  last  night,  I  thought  maybe  we  could  take 
the  rest  of  our  money  and  buy  her  a  warm 


New  Plans,  251 

thing  to  wear.  Would  joii  like  that,  dear 
Bessie  ?  " 

''  'Deed,  I  would,"  said  Bessie.  "  You  do 
make  such  nice  plans,  Maggie.  If  we  can  do 
it,  I  shall  just  tell  Mary  you  made  it  up.  I 
don't  believe  anybody  has  such  a  smart  Mag- 
gie as  I  have." 

Maggie  kissed  her  sister,  for  dearly  as  she 
loved  praise,  none  was  sweeter  to  her  than 
that  which  Bessie  was  always  so  ready  to  give. 

"  I'm  afraid  we  wont  have  enough  to  buy 
anything  very  warm,"  she  said,  "  'cause  that 
would  cost  a  good  deal,  and  we  have  not  time 
to  earn  any,  we  are  so  very  busy." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  we  have  our  hands 
full ;  but  we  will  ask  mamma." 

Later  in  tlie  day  they  did  ask  her,  and  she 
said  that,  if  they  pleased,  they  might  use  what 
they  did  not  need  for  the  library  for  this  pur- 
pose. 


252  Bessie  in  the   City. 

*'  But  you  will  not  have  enough  to  buy  a 
warm  sack  for  Mary,  such  as  she  should  have, 
my  darlings,"  she  said.  "  Nurse  told  me  how 
poorly  Mary  was  clothed  for  this  cold  weather, 
and  I  had  intended,  the  next  time  I  should  go 
out,  to  buy  some  gray  flannel,  and  let  Jane 
make  a  sack  thickly  lined  and  quilted.  This 
will  cost  more  than  you  can  spare." 

*'  Well,  mamma,"  said  Bessie,  "  if  you  will 
wait  till  after  Christmas,  perhaps  we  might 
earn  enough  to  buy  a  sack  for  Mary,  and  we 
would  like  to  do  it  ourselves." 

•'  But  in  the  mean  while,  the  poor  child 
would  be  suffering  with  the  cold,"  said  Mrs 
Bradford.  ^'  Suppose  I  give  Mary  the  cloak, 
and  you  buy  for  Jemmy  a  comfortable,  so  that 
he  will  not  need  his  mother's  shawl." 

The  children  agreed,  though  they  did  not 
look  very  well  satisfied,  for  they  had  set  their 
hearts  on  giving  the  warm  garment  to  Mary 


New  Plans.  253 

themselves.  Suddenly  Maggie  looked  up  at 
her  mother  as  if  a  bright  thought  had  come 
into  her  mind,  and  said,  eagerly, — 

"  Mamma,  Mary  said  she  used  to  wear  her 
mother's  shawl  when  Jemmy  did  not  need  it. 
Suppose  you  were  to  buy  the  comfortable,  and 
then  the  shawl  will  be  at  liberty  for  Mary,  and 
by  and  by,  when  we  have  enough,  ive  can  buy 
the  sack." 

Mamma  said  this  would  do  very  well,  and 
so  it  was  arranged.  Then  she  told  them  that 
if  they  wished,  she  would  continue  to  give 
them  the  glove-money  each  month,  and  what 
they  saved  from  it  they  might  still  spend  for 
others  who  were  in  need ;  for  Mrs.  Bradford 
agreed  with  Maggie  that  this  plan  had  been  of 
service  to  her  little  girl,  and  thought  it  would 
be  well  to  keep  on  with  it,  since  it  was  teaching 
her  to  be  thoughtful  and  careful  herself,  in 
order  that  she  might  be  of  use  to  others ;  and 


254  jyesste  in  the  City. 

good   habits    onco    formed   arc   not    easy   to 
lose. 

That  evening,  when  papa  came  home,  he 
brought  some  glossy,  crisp,  new  bank-notes, 
which  he  offered  to  Maggie  and  Bessie  in  ex- 
change for  some  of  the  smaller  money  in 
their  box.  They  were  quite  ready  to  take 
them,  they  were  so  clean  and  pretty  ;  and 
taking  out  two  dollars  in  change,  Mr.  Brad- 
ford put  in  two  one  dollar  notes. 


XII. 


A    VISITOR. 


\  DAY  or  two  after  this,  a  lady  and 
gentleman  named  Moore  came  to  make 
a  visit  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford.  They 
brought  with  them  their  son  George,  a  boy 
about  Harry's  age.  What  kind  of  a  boy  he 
was  may  be  known  from  a  conversation  be- 
tween Harry  and  Fred  on  the  first  evening  of 
the  Moores'  visit. 

"  Harry,"  said  Fred,  as  they  were  undress- 
ing  for  bed,  ''  what  do  you  think  of  that 
chap?" 

"  Who,  — George  ?  "  said  Harry;  "  I  don't 
fancy  him,  though  it's  scarcely  fair  to  judge 
yet ;  but  I  don't  think  there's  much  in  him. 
He's  a  Miss  Nancy-ish  sort  of  a  fellow." 


256  Bessie  in  the   City. 

*'  There's  not  much  in  him  of  the  right 
sort,"  said  Fred,  savagely  ;  "  but  there's  plenty 
of  another  kind  ;  and  if  he  tries  it  on  here, 
I'll  have  it  out  of  him." 

''  Halloa  !  "  said  Harry ;  "  what  has  set  you 
up  that  way,  Frederick  the  Great  ?  What 
would  papa  say  to  hear  you  speaking  so  of  a 
guest  in  his  house  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Fred  ;  "  guest  or  no 
guest,  I  am  not  going  to  have  any  fellow  play- 
ing Fhabby  tricks  on  our  Midget  and  Bess.  It 
is  a  man's  duty  to  stand  up  for  his  mother 
and  sisters.  I  tease  the  girls  myself  some- 
times I  know,  more  shame  for  me,  but  you 
will  allow  I  haven't  done  it  so  much  lately, 
Hal ;  I  couldn't  since  Bess  told  me  gemper- 
lums  didn't  tease  ; "  and  Fred  began  to  laugh  ; 
'*  bit  I  never  played  mean  tricks  on  them,  and 
I  sha'n't  let  any  chap  that's  nothing  to  them. 


A    Visitor.  257 

He'd  better  let  them  alone,  or  Fll  fix  liim, 
that's  all." 

"  But  what  has  he  done  ?  "  asked  Ilarry. 
'*  Seeing  he  is  a  visitor,  you  ought  not  to  talk  so 
about  him  without  some  special  good  reason." 

'•Reason!"  repeated  Fred,  pulling  off  his 
jacket  and  tossing  it  upon  a  distant  chair  ; 
*'  there's  special  reason  enough  ;  if  that  is  all 
you  want,  I'll  tell  you.  The  first  thing,  this 
evening,  while  the  grown-upers  were  at  din- 
ner and  you  were  studying  in  the  library, 
he  was  playing  jackstraws  with  Maggie  and 
Bessie.  I  thought  it  did  not  seem  very  polite 
to  leave  him  alone  with  the  little  girls  ;  so,  as  I 
had  done  all  my  lessons  but  the  copying  of 
my  sums,  I  took  my  slate  to  the  parlor  table. 
I  suppose  he  thought  I  was  not  noticing  his 
play,  but  I  soon  found  him  out.  First  place, 
he  said  they  were  to  throw  from  the  height 
of  their  fists,  his  being  Invice  as  big  as  eitlif^*' 
17 


258  Bessie  in  the   City, 

of  the  girls.  Presently  he  told  Bessie  that  she 
joggled.  I  couldn't  see  that  she  did,  but  1 
said  nothing.  It  was  the  same  thing  with 
Maggie.  She  had  only  taken  off  one  or  two, 
when  he  stopped  her.  Midget  was  quite  sure 
that  she  had  not  shaken,  and  so  was  I ;  but  he 
declared  that  he  had  seen  it.  Pretty  soon  he 
gave  an  awful  shake  himself,  but  the  girls 
were  looking  away,  and  did  not  see  it.  He 
looked  up  at  them,  and  seeing  they  did  not 
notice  it,  went  on  playing  without  a  word. 
The  next  time  he  told  Bessie  she  shook,  she 
laid  down  the  hook  with  a  little  sigh,  and 
said,  in  her  innocent  way,  '  We  always  shake 
when  we  don't  see  ;  please  to  'sense  us,  be- 
cause we  don't  mean  to.'  Maggie  declared 
that  Bessie  had  not  shaken,  and  insisted  that 
she  should  go  on ;  and  what  do  you  think 
the  mean  fellow  did  then  ?  He  blew  upon 
the  jack-straws  as  Bess  went  to  draw  one  out ; 


A    Visitor.  259 

80,  of  course,  they  went.  '  Then  I  did  shake/ 
said  Bessie.  Of  course,  he  won  the  game  by 
ever  so  many.  '  It's  very  funny  we  shook  so 
much  when  we  didn't  see,'  said  Midget.  '  You 
should  look  sharp,'  he  answered.  So  then  I 
put  in.  '  It  don't  do  to  have  more  than  one 
too  sliarp  in  a  game,'  I  said.  He  took,  and  af- 
ter that  did  not  care  to  play  any  more.  Now, 
is  he  not  a  mean  sneak  to  trick  two  little 
girls  ?  " 

"  That  he  is,"  answered  Harry,  indignantly  ; 
"  but  still  it  wont  do  for  you  to  make  a  row 
with  him,  Fred." 

"  That's  not  all,"  said  Fred.  "  You  know 
wlien  Maggie  spilled  that  spoonful  of  ice- 
cream over  herself  at  dessert,  and  a  little 
went  on  Mrs.  Moore's  dress  ?  Well,  it  was 
all  George's  doing.  Just  as  she  went  to 
lift  it  to  her  lips,  he  jerked  her  arm  with  his 
elbow,    and    away    went    tlici  spoon.      Then 


2t)0  Bessie  in  the  City. 

— -irs^^ — 

mamma  said,  '  Maggie,  how  could  you  be  so 
careless,  my  dear  ? '  and  Mrs.  Moore  looked 
like  a  thunder-cloud ;  but  he  never  had  the 
honesty  to  own  up,  even  when  Meg  turned 
and  looked  at  him  with  great,  wide-open  eyes, 
as  if  she  expected  him  to  speak.  Papa  sus- 
pected something,  I  know,  for  he  called  Mag- 
gie to  him,  and  made  her  stay  at  his  side,  not 
a  bit  as  if  he  thought  it  was  her  carelessness. 
He  had  better  look  out  for  himself,  that's  all ; 
for  if  he  tries  much  more  of  that  game,  he'll 
find  me  pitching  into  him." 

"  YoLi  wont  fight  him  ?  "  said  Harry. 

''  Yes,  I  will  fight  him,  too,  if  he  plagues 
our  girls,  or  cheats  them." 

"  You  know  what  papa  thinks  of  fighting, 
Fred  :  and  what  will  he  say  if  you  quarrel 
with  a  boy  who  is  a  guest  in  our  own  house  ?  " 

"  I'll  guest  him  if  he  don't  mind  his  p's 
\nd  q's,"  said  Fred,  scrambling   into  bed  in 


A    Visitor,  261 

his  usual  headlong  fashion.  "  I  say,  Hal, 
couldn't  you  give  him  a  hint  in  the  morning 
that  we  wont  stand  such  doings  ?  You're  a 
better  hand  to  do  it  than  I  am.  You'll  keep 
your  temper,  and  I  sha'n't." 

"  I'll  see,"  said  Harry,  who  was  desirous 
to  keep  the  peace  between  his  brother  and 
the  'visitor,  and  who  knew  that  Fred's  hot 
temper,  and  contempt  for  all  meanness,  would 
be  very  apt  to  lead  him  into  trouble  with  such 
a  boy  as  he  perceived  George  to  be. 

"  There's  his  mother,  too,"  said  Fred, 
"  telling  mamma  that '  she  felt  it  was  a  great 
risk  to  bring  him  from  home,  he  was  such  a 
good  boy,  so  free  from  all  bad  habits.  She 
had  never  allowed  him  to  play  with  other 
children,  as  she  thought  they  contaminated 
each  other;  and  slie  was  glad  he  seemed  to 
prefer  gh-ls'  society.'  Bosh  !  He  '  prefers  the 
girls'  society'  because   he  can   come   it   over 


262  Besstt  tn  t/ie   City. 

them,  and  he  can't  over  us.  His  father  has 
more  of  the  right  stufif  in  him.  He  said,  *  it 
was  time  George  was  thrown  with  otlier  boys, 
and  allowed  to  take  his  share  of  rough  and 
tumble.'  But  I  sha'n't  trouble  him  if  he 
don't  provoke  me  too  much,  only  you  tell  him 
we  wont  stand  seeing  our  sisters  ill-treated." 

But  ahhough  Harry  did  as  Fred  asked, 
there  was  trouble  before  the  day  was  half 
over.  Mr.  Moore  gave  his  son  permission  to 
go  out  to  the  park  during  the  recess  of  the 
school  which  the  boys  attended.  Before  the 
half-hour  was  up,  George  rushed  into  the 
house  crying  loudly,  and  with  his  lip  cut  and 
bleeding.  He  made  such  an  outcry  that  the 
whole  family  were  very  much  alarmed ;  but 
when  his  mouth  was  washed,  it  proved  to  be 
but  a  slight  cut,  and  nurse  declared  to  Jane 
that  Franky  would  have  been  ashamed  to 
make  a  fuss  for  such  a  trifle. 


A    l^isitor.  263 

"  Fred  had  done  it,"  he  said.  "  Fred 
wanted  to  fight,  and  he  would  not.  He  had 
never  fought  in  liis  life.  He'd  be  ashamed  to 
say  he  had." 

Mrs.  Bradford  was  very  much  troubled ;  but 
she  waited  to  hear  her  own  son's  side  of  the 
story  before  she  judged  him.  Mrs.  Moore, 
however,  had  a  great  deal  to  say. 

When  Fred  came  home,  two  hours  later,  his 
hand  was  bound  up  in  his  pocket-handker- 
chief. 

"  How  have  you  hurt  your  hand,  Fred  ?  " 
asked  his  father.  ^'  Is  it  true  you  have  been 
fighting?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"-  Without  just  cause,  as  George  says?  " 

"  I  had  cause  enough,  sir,  if  that  was  all," 
said  Fred,  rather  sulkily  for  him. 

"  That  he  had,"  said  Harry.  "  You'd  have 
been  ready  to  fight  yourself,  sir.     Ill  tell  you 


264  Bessie  in  the  City, 

how  it  was.  George  is  not  fair  and  above 
board,  as  we  found  out  last  night.  So  when 
he  came  out  to  the  jDlay-ground,  I  just  told 
him  we  would  allow  no  unfair  play,  and  he 
did  not  try  it.  But  after  a  while  he  said  he 
did  not  care  to  play  with  such  a  rough  set, 
and  walked  off  by  himself.  I  thought  I  ought 
to  go  and  see  after  him,  and  found  him  shy- 
ing stones  at  the  sparrows  about  the  water- 
tanks.  I  told  him  he  had  better  have  done  with 
that,  or  he  would  have  an  M.  P.  down  on  him. 
Then  he  said  he  guessed  he'd  go  home.  First 
thing  I  knew  a  few  minutes  after,  he  was 
howling,  and  Fred  had  him  by  the  collar.  It 
seems  poor  Charlie  Wagstaff — poor,  hump 
backed  little  Charlie  —  was  sitting;  on  a  bench 
reading,  when  my  gentleman  George  passed 
by  and  saw  him.  He  began  by  throwing 
gravel  over  Charley's  head  and  neck,  not 
thinking  he  was  one  of  our  boys,  and  that  not 


A    Visitor.  265 

a  fellow  in  the  school  would  see  him  abused, 
and  at  last,  getting  bolder,  snatched  his  book, 
and  threw  it  over  the  park  railing.  It  was  a 
harrowed  book,  and  the  poor  boy  took  his 
crutches  and  started  after  it.  Then  George 
began  dancing  about  him,  and  calling  him  '  Old 
hipperty  hop,'  and  such  names.  Fred,  who 
saw  them  from  a  distance,  feared  sometliing 
was  wrong,  and  ran  to  the  spot  just  in  time 
to  see  him  pull  Charlie's  crutch  from  under 
him,  throw  him  on  the  ground,  and  then  run. 
But  Fred  collared  him,  and  in  his  quick  way, 
just  let  fly  and  hit  him  in  the  mouth.  He 
came  off  the  worst,  though,  for  his  knuckles 
were  cut  by  George's  teeth,  and  lie  was  not  so 
much  hurt.  George  went  off  roaring,  and 
that  moment  the  wliistle  sounded,  and  we  had 
to  go  in.  It  was  writing  hour,  and  when  Mr. 
Peters  saw  Fred's  bleeding  knuckles,  lie  asked 
him  if  lie  liad  been  fighting.     He  said,  '  Yes,' 


266  Bessie  in  the   City, 

and  Mr.  Peters  was  going  to  keep  him  in,  when 
Charlie  spoke  up,  and  told  the  whole  story. 
Mr.  Peters  said  we  all  knew  how  strict  the 
rules  against  fighting  in  play-hours  were ; 
but  he  really  thought,  in  this  case,  Fred 
was  almost  excusable,  and  asked  how  many 
agreed  with  him.  Up  went  every  hand  in  the 
school,  and  I  don't  think  he  was  ill-pleased 
either.  So  he  excused  Fred,  and  told  me  to 
tell  you  why  he  had  done  so  ;  and  I  don't 
believe  you'll  be  the  one  to  blame  him,  papa." 

Mr.  Bradford  was  certainly  not  disposed  to 
be  severe  with  his  boy,  but  he  talked  to  him 
a  little  on  the  evils  resulting  from  his  hasty 
temper,  and  readiness  to  give  a  blow  when  a 
word  would  answer. 

"  I  am  not  inclined  to  punish  or  reprove 
you  under  the  circumstances,  my  son,"  he 
said,  "  but  you  have  made  some  discomfort 
for  your  mother  and  me,  as  well  as  for  your- 


A    Vise  tor,  267 

self,  by  jour  hasty  conduct.  It  is  not  pleasant 
to  feel  that  a  son  of  ours  has  so  conducted 
himself  to  the  child  of  our  friends,  however 
great  the  provocation ;  and  you  have  forgot- 
ten the  laws  of  hospitality  in  attacking  one 
who  is  a  guest  beneath  your  father's  roof." 

"  I'll  go  and  shake  hands  with  him  this 
minute,"  said  Fred.  "  I  did  forget  who  and 
what  he  was,  that's  true,  though  I'll  own  I 
have  been  afraid  I  should  serve  him  out  ever 
since  he  has  been  in  the  house." 

And  Fred  went  directly  to  find  George  and 
make  peace  with  him.  George  was  unwilling 
to  shake  hands,  and  Mrs.  Moore  did  not  look 
very  kindly  at  Fred,  but  Mr.  Moore  insisted 
that  his  son  should  make  friends  and  receive 
Fred's  apology.  Neither  Harry  nor  Fred  told 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moore  of  George's  misconduct 
towards  Charlie,  and  he  was  not  honorable 
enough  to  tell  himself,  leaving  Jiis  parents  to 


268  Bessie  in  the   City, 

— -^s^^a 

suppose  it  was  only  Fred's  quarrelsome  temper 
that  had  been  to  blame. 

After  this,  George  kept  himself  rather  apart 
from  the  other  boys,  spending  most  of  his 
time  with  Maggie  and  Bessie,  who  did  not 
like  him  much,  tliey  could  scarcely  tell  why, 
but  who  were  very  polite  to  him.  Flossy  did 
not  like  him  either,  but  he  showed  it  very 
plainly,  barking  at  him  whenever  he  saw  him, 
and  if  George  came  near  to  him  scrambling 
into  the  children's  arms  or  running  under 
Mrs.  Bradford's  skirt,  where  he  would  keep 
up  a  low  snarling  or  woof,  wooffing,  which  was 
very  unmannerly. 

Just  about  this  time  Mrs.  Bradford  found 
that  one  of  Maggie's  second  teeth  was  making 
its  appearance  behind  the  first  tooth,  which 
was  not  yet  loosened  to  give  place  to  it.  She 
was  afraid  that  the  new  tooth  would  come 
crooked,  and  so  spoil  the  looks  of  Maggie's 


A    Visitor.  209 

mouth,  and  she  said  she  thought  she  must 
take  her  to  the  dentist  and  have  the  old  one 
drawn. 

Now  Maggie  had  a  great  horror  of  the 
dentist.  Unfortunately,  she  had  once  been 
taken  there  by  grandmamma  when  Aunt  Annie 
was  to  have  a  tooth  drawn.  Maggie  had  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  carriage,  and  without  think- 
ing much  about  it,  Mrs.  Stanton  had  allowed 
her  to  go  in  with  tliem.  The  tooth  was  a 
hard  one  to  draw,  and  poor  Aunt  Annie  fainted 
and  was  very  sick,  while  no  one  thought  of 
the  little  frightened  child  who  stood  trembling 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  thinking  that  the 
dentist  had  killed  her  dear  aunt.  Afterwards 
Aunt  Annie  took  cold  in  her  face,  and  suf- 
fered very  much  because  she  foolishly  went 
out  too  soon  ;  but  Maggie  thought  it  all  the 
fault  of  the  poor  dentist.  After  that,  when- 
ever her  dolls  were  ill,  it  was  always  because 


270  Bessie  in  the   City. 

they  had  been  to  the  dentist.  They  had  small- 
pox, scarlet  fever,  measles,  and  broken  legs 
and  arms,  and  were  even  deaf,  dumb,  and 
blind  all  through  the  fault  of  the  dentist, 
Mrs.  Bradford  was  very  sorry  for  this,  as  she 
feared  it  would  make  trouble  with  Maggie 
when  her  teeth  should  need  any  attention ; 
and  so  it  proved,  for  when  she  told  her  she 
thought  she  must  take  her  to  Dr.  Blake,  Mag- 
gie turned  very  white. 

"  It  will  not  be  much,  dearest,"  said  her 
mother.  "  It  is  a  little  first  tooth,  and  the 
pain  will  be  over  in  a  moment." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie.  "  I  would  rather 
have  my  mouth  ever  so  ugly  than  have  it  out." 

"  Perhaps  you  do  not  care  now,  Maggie, 
but  when  you  are  a  young  lady,  you  will  not 
thank  your  mother  for  allowing  your  teeth  to 
grow  crooked  in  order  that  she  might  spare 
you  a  moment's  pain  now." 


A    Visitor,  271 

Maggie  said  no  more,  but  for  the  rest  of 
the  day  she  looked  so  troubled,  and  she  and 
Bessie  had  such  anxious  whisperings,  and 
there  was  so  much  feeling  and  touching  of 
the  tooth  that  was  to  be  lost,  that  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford told  her  husband  that  she  should  take 
her  to  Dr.  Blake  the  first  thing  in  the  morn- 
ing, that  she  might  have  no  more  time  to  think 
about  it. 

"  Maggie,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  calling  her 
to  him  just  as  lie  was  going  down  town  the 
next  morning,  —  "Maggie,  do  you  want  to 
earn  a  dollar  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  papa ! "  and  Mr.  Bradford  smiled 
as  he  saw  the  troubled  face  light  up  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

''  You  and  Bessie  are  going  to  be  great 
money-makers,"  he  said.  "  You  must  not 
grow  too  fond  of  it,  or  learn  to  love  it  for  its 
own  sake.     If,  when  I  come  home  this  after 


272  Bessie  in  the   City. 

noon,  you  have  a  little  white  tooth  to  show  me, 
I  shall  pay  you  a  dollar  for  it." 

''  And  can  I  do  what  I  like  with  it,  papa  ?  " 

''  Yes,  whatever  you  please.  You  may 
spend  it  for  Christmas  presents  or  for  some- 
thing for  yourself,  — just  which  you  choose." 

But  Maggie  did  not  mean  to  do  either. 
She  thanked  and  kissed  her  father,  and  was 
off  to  tell  her  mother  and  Bessie. 

"  There's  a  whole  another  dollar  for  Mary's 
sack,"  she  said,  "  now  she'll  have  it  all  the 
sooner."  And  she  kept  up  her  courage  very 
well  till  they  drove  up  to  the  dentist's  stoop. 
Then  Mrs.  Bradford  felt  the  little  hand  she 
held  squeezing  her  own  very  tiglitly,  and  Mag- 
gie looked  up  in  her  face  with  a  quivering  lip. 
"  I  have  to  think  very  much  about  Mary's 
sack  not  to  cry,  mamma,"  she  said. 

''  You  are  my  own  dear,  courageous  little 
girl,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  and  it  will  soon 


A    Visitor,  273 

be  over  now."  She  was  very  sorry  for  Mag- 
gie, for  she  knew  this  was  a  hard  trial  fur  ner, 
and  wished  very  much  that  she  could  bear  it 
in  her  place  ;  but  since  this  was  not  possible, 
all  she  could  do  was  to  help  her  to  bear  it 
bravely. 

Dr.  Blake  was  at  home  and  disengaged,  and 
he  was  so  kind  and  gentle  that  Maggie  was 
quite  ashamed  of  feeling  afraid  of  him. 

''  You  don't  say  this  little  maid  has  any 
need  of  me  ? "  he  said. 

Mrs.  Bradford  told  what  was  the  trouble, 
and  took  off  Maggie's  hat;  the  dentist  lifted 
her  into  the  chair,  and  told  her  to  open  her 
mouth.  She  gave  a  long  sigh  and  obeyed, 
holding  on  tightly  to  her  mother's  hand.  Dr. 
Blake  looked  into  her  mouth  for  a  moment, 
and  then  patting  her  on  the  head,  said  to  Mrs. 
Bradford, — 

"It's  all  right  enough,  madam ;  the  first 
18 


274  Bessie  tn  the   City, 

tooth  will  be  loose  in  a  few  days,  when  you 
may  pull  it  with  a  thread,  and  the  second  will 
come  quite  straight.  No  need  for  any  pulling 
of  mine." 

As  soon  as  Maggie  understood  the  tooth  was 
not  to  come  out,  she  looked  very  much  de- 
lighted, then  grave  again.  "  If  it  is  not  too 
much  trouble,  sir,"  she  said,  "  will  you  please 
to  take  it  out." 

"  Why,  you  surely  don't  want  to  have  it 
drawn  for  the  fun  of  it ! "  said  the  dentist. 

"  No,  sir ;  but  for  another  reason."  Mag- 
gie was  too  shy  to  tell  what  that  reason  was. 

Since  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  with 
the  tooth,  Mrs.  Bradford  pvit  on  Maggie's  hat 
and  the  doctor  lifted  her  down  from  the  great 
chair. 

'-•  Mamma,"  she  said,  as  they  left  the  house, 
"  I  shall  never  make  my  dolls  sick  again  be- 
cause they  went  to  the  dentist.     Why,  I  think 


A    Visitor.  275 

he  is  just  as  nico  as  other  gentlemen,  and  I 
felt  real  sorry  I  was  so  afraid  of  him." 

While  Mrs.  Bradford  and  Maggie  were  gone, 
Bessie  stood  by  the  parlor  window  looking 
very  melancholy  and  watching  for  their  re- 
turn. She  was  very  much  troubled  about  her 
sister,  and  would  not  play  with  George  or  listen 
to  the  story  which  Jane  offered  to  tell  her,  or 
do  anything  but  think  of  Maggie.  Presently 
she  saw  Mr.  Hall  coming  down  the  street. 
He  stopped  at  the  stoop,  lox)ked  up  and 
nodded,  and  then  came  up  the  steps.  Bessie 
slipped  down  from  her  chair  and  running  to 
the  front-door,  called  to  Patrick,  who  was  in 
the  hall,  to  open  it  for  lier.  She  seized  her 
kind  old  friend  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  Mr. 
Hall,  we  have  a  dreadful  misfortune." 

Mr.  Hall  was  quite  alarmed  when  he  saw 
her  sad  little  face,  but  when  he  had  asked 
what    the   misfortune   was,  and    heard    that 


276  Bessie  m   the   City, 

Maggie  had  gone  to  have  a  tooth  drawn,  he 
was  very  much  relieved  and  rather  amused. 
He  took  Bessie  on  his  knee,  and  after  she  had 
told  him  how  well  Maggie  had  behaved,  talked 
to  her  for  a  few  moments,  and  then,  saying 
that  it  was  about  time  for  her  mother  and 
Maggie  to  be  back,  left  a  message  for  her 
father,  and  went  away. 

Pretty  soon  mamma  and  Maggie  came  in, 
the  latter,  to  her  sister's  surprise  and  delight, 
looking  very  bright ;  and  lo !  there  was  the 
tooth  still  in  her  head. 

^'  But  oh,  our  dollar !  Bessie,"  said  Maggie. 
*'  I  am  so  sorry  !  " 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Bessie.  "  Maybe  we 
can  earn  it  some  other  way.  I'm  so  glad  you 
didn't  be  hurt,  Maggie,  dear." 

"  Where  is  that  tooth  I  am  to  pay  for  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Bradford,  when  he  came  home  that 
afternoon. 


A    Visitor.  277 

Maggie  came  to  him,  and  opening  her 
mouth,  sliowed  her  pretty  rice-grain  still  in 
its  place. 

''  Halloa  !  "  said  papa.  "  Did  your  courage 
give  out  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Blake  wouldn't  take  it  out,  papa  ;  not 
even  when  I  begged  him.  And  now  you  wont 
nave  to  pay  the  dollar." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  papa.  "  1 
bought  the  tooth,  and  I  did  not  say  where  I 
should  keep  it.  It  is  not  quite  convenient  for 
me  to  take  care  of  it  just  at  present ;  perhaps 
you  would  not  object  to  giving  it  lodging  in 
its  present  place  for  a  while.  But  it  belongs 
to  me,  remember ;  here  is  the  price,  and  you 
are  to  take  care  that  it  does  not  bite  threads 
or  crack  nuts,  or  do  anything  else  which 
might  damage  it.  It  is  mine,  now,  bought 
and  paid  for  ; "  and  as  papa  spoke,  he  handed 
Maggie  a  dollar-bill.     "  You  quite  deserve  it, 


278  Bessie  in  the   City, 

my  little  girl.  It  was  no  fault  of  yours  that 
you  did  not  keep  your  share  of  the  bargain, 
and  since  you  did  all  you  could,  I  shall  keep 
mine." 

After  Maggie  had  hugged  and  kissed  her 
father  till  he  was  half  stifled,  —  Bessie,  too, 
doing  her  share  at  that  business,  —  they  ran 
for  the  money-box  to  put  away  the  new  note. 
She  and  Bessie  were  trying  to  count  over  their 
treasure  when  George  came  by. 

"  Whew  !  "  he  said.  "  Where  did  you  get 
all  that  ?  Is  it  yours  ?  What  are  you  going 
to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  We  are  going  to  do  a  purpose  with  it  ?  " 
said  Bessie,  for  neither  of  the  children  cared 
\o  tell  George  what  that  purpose  was. 

"  Oh,  to  buy  goodies  and  toys  is  your  pur- 
pose, I  suppose !  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie.  "  It  is  not  a  foolish 
purpose  like  that; "  and  she  said  no  more. 


.1    Visitor.  279 

They  let  George  help  them  count  the 
money,  however,  for  they  could  not  do  it 
correctly  themselves,  then  put  it  all  back  in 
mamma's  drawer.  George  had  followed  them, 
and  saw  where  they  placed  it. 

That  evening  a  parcel  was  left  at  the  door 
directed  to  Maggie,  and  when  it  was  opened, 
there  were  two  new  books.  In  one  was  written, 
"  For  a  brave  little  girl  who  has  lost  a  tooth, 
from  Grandpapa  Hall ; "  in  the  other,  "  For 
the  sister  of  the  brave  girl." 

"  Will  you  lend  me  one  of  your  new 
books  ?  "  asked  George,  as  Maggie  and  Bessie 
were  saying  "  good-night." 

"  We  can't,"  said  Maggie.  "  We  must  not 
keep  them,  you  know,  'cause  I  did  not  have 
my  tooth  out,  and  Grandpapa  Hall  meant 
it  for  that.-  We  are  going  to  give  them 
back." 

'*  Pshaw,"  said  George  ;  ''  he'll  never  know 


28o  Bessie  in  the  City, 

I  should  not  think  of  such  a  thing  as  giving 
them  up." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  vrould,"  Fred  whis- 
pered to  Harry. 

'^  Why,  that  would  be  doing  a  story,"  said 
Bessie,  and  she  drew  away  from  George  with 
a  shocked  look.  "  Why,  George,  I'm  afraid 
your  mother  don't  bring  you  up  in  the  way 
you  should  go." 

Fred  and  Harry  laughed,  but  George  was 
angry,  and  would  not  shake  hands  with  Bes- 
sie, when,  a  moment  later,  she  bade  him  good- 
night. 

But  Grandpapa  Hall  would  not  take  back 
the  books ;  he  said,  as  papa  had  done,  that  they, 
were  meant  for  the  brave  girl  who  was  willing 
to  have  her  tooth  drawn. 


XIII  . 


TUB    BANK-NOTES, 


ROM  the  time  that  George  had  seen 
the  children's  money,  he  did  not  cease 
to  think  of  it,  and  soon  he  began  to  wish  for  it. 

"  'Tis  a  shame,"  he  said  to  himself;  ''  those 
two  little  snips  having  such  a  lot  of  money, 
and  here  I  have  next  to  none.  Father  is  so 
awful  stingy  about  giving  me  money." 

This  was  not  true,  for  Mr.  Moore  would 
give  his  son  money  for  any  needful  purpose ; 
but  as  George  was  apt  to  waste  his  allowance, 
he  gave  him  but  a  small  on'^.  George  had 
been  envious  when  he  heard  how  much  more 
Mr.  Bradford  gave  his  sons,  and  now  when  he 
saw  what  the  little  girls  had  earned,  he  kept 
saying  to  himself  that  he  wished  he  had  half 


282  Bessie  in  the   City, 

or  even  a  quarter  of  what  was  in  that  box. 
The  wish  grew  stronger  and  stronger  ;  then 
came  the  thought  how  easily  he  might  get  at  it 
some  time  when  there  was  no  one  in  Mrs. 
Bradford's  room.  Then  he  began  prying  and 
watching  and  looking  at  the  drawer  where 
the  money  lay,  tliinking  how  fine  it  would  be 
if  he  could  only  luish  the  bank-notes  out  of  it 
into  his  own  pocket.  Conscience  whispered 
loudly,  struggling  with  the  evil  spirit  which 
was  gaining  such  a  hold  upon  him,  but  all  in 
vain,  he  would  not  listen  ;  and  her  voice  grew 
fainter  and  fainter. 

At  last  he  resolved  that  he  loould  have  some 
of  that  money,  come  what  might,  although  ho 
had  in  the  mean  while  found  out  from  the  boys 
with  what  purpose  the  dear  little  girls  were 
saving  it.  And  "  chance  "  (as  he  called  it) 
threw  a  fine  opportunity  in  his  way. 

"  This  bill  is  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Moore  to  her 


The  Bank-Aotes,  283 

husband,  one  morning  when  George  was  in 
the  room.  "  It  was  among  those  you  gave  me 
yesterday,  and  was  refused  in  a  store  where  I 
offered  it." 

Mr.  Moore  took  it  from  her.  "  A  counter- 
feit certainly,"  he  said  ;  "  it  is  unmistakably 
bad.  I  wonder  I  should  have  been  so  careless 
as  to  take  it."  Then  twisting  it  up,  he  tossed 
it  among  a  heap  of  waste  paper  that  lay  in  a 
little  basket,  for  Mr.  Moore  was  rather  a  care- 
less man.  That  note  should  have  been  de- 
stroyed at  once  when  he  knew  it  was  bad. 

A.  terrible  thought  came  into  George's 
mind,  and  he  did  not  shut  it  out.  He  lin- 
gered a  moment  behind  his  parents,  and 
snatching  the  false  note,  thrust  it  far  down  in 
his  pocket ;  then  he  followed  to  the  breakfast- 
room.  But  he  could  eat  nothing ;  the  food 
lay  untouched  upon  his  plate.  A  guilty,  al- 
most sick  feeling  took  from  him  all  appetite, 


284  Bessie  in  the   City. 

made  him  hate  the  sight  of  those  happy  faces 
about  the  table,  and  think  that  every  look 
which  was  turned  upon  him  was  full  of  anger 
and  5Corn.  Once  when  Harry  accidentally 
touched  him,  he  clapped  his  hand  over  his 
pocket  with  a  sudden  fear  that  he  was  about 
to  drag  forth  the  note  and  expose  him ;  and 
when  tender-hearted  little  Bessie  came  to  him, 
saying  that,  since  he  had  eaten  no  breakfast, 
he  should  have  half  of  her  orange,  he  pushed 
her  rudely  from  him,  and  would  not  take 
the  gift  she  offered  so  prettily.  His  father 
reproved  him  sharply  for  his  ill-manners,  and 
his  mother  said  she  was  sure  George  was  not 
well,  something  had  been  wrong  with  him  for 
two  or  three  days ;  he  must  see  the  doctor. 

Yes,  something  was  wrong,  very  wrong  with 
George,  but  it  was  not  what  his  anxious 
mother  thought ;  it  was  far  worse  than  any 
sickness  of  the  body ;  it  was  the  evil  of  a  bad 


The  Bank-Notes.  285 

^  r*fcia,  of  a  guilty  purpose,  and  no  doctor 
could  cure  him  since  he  would  not  go  to  the 
great  Physician.  All  the  morning  he  crept 
about  the  house,  wretched  and  uneasy,  look- 
ing miserable  enough  to  give  cause  for  his 
mother's  anxiety.  Once  or  twice  his  wicked 
resolution  almost  gave  way,  and  he  half  de- 
termined to  throw  away  the  note  and  think  no 
more  of  the  money  in  the  box  ;  but  again  the 
tempter  whispered,  drowning  the  feeble  voice 
of  conscience,  and  giving  him  many  reasons 
why  he  should  take  what  he  wished  for. 

That  afternoon  he  was  left  alone.  His 
mother  and  Mrs.  Bradford  went  out,  taking 
Maggie  and  Bessie  with  them,  leaving  him 
behind  at  his  own  request.  The  boys  were  at 
school ;  his  father  and  Mr.  Bradford  far  away 
down  town  ;  it  really  seemed  as  if  all  had 
been  arranged  for  him  to  carry  out  his  pur- 
pose. 


286  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Eising  from  the  sofa,  upon  which  his  mother 
had  left  him,  he  stole  softly  to  the  door  and 
peeped  out.  How  still  the  house  was !  Ho 
went  slowly  along  the  hall,  watching  the  turn 
of  the  stairs  lest  a  head  should  suddenly  ap 
pear  above  it,  reached  Mrs.  Bradford's  door, 
pushed  it  open  and  entered.  Now,  quick  — 
not  a  minute  to  lose.  Hark  !  What  is  that  ? 
Nothing  but  old  nurse  crooning  softly  to  her 
baby  in  the  nursery. 

Noiselessly  he  pulled  open  the  drawer,  lift- 
ed the  box,  the  secret  of  which  Maggie  had 
showed  him,  from  its  corner,  took  out  one  of 
the  fresh  clean  notes,  and  put  in  its  place  the 
crumpled,  worthless  bill  his  father  had  thrown 
aside  that  morning. 

Whenever  he  had  felt  reproached  for  the 
meanness  he  was  guilty  of  towards  the  dear 
little  girls  who  had  been  so  kind  to  him,  he 
would  say  to  himself  that  it  was  not  at  all 


The  Bank-Notes,  287 

likely  they  would  suffer  from  it ;  probably  tho 
bad  note  would  be  paid  away  with  the  others  ; 
his  father  had  taken  it  witliout  noticing  that 
it  was  false,  why  should  not  others  do  so? 
Even  if  it  should  be  found  out,  Mr.  Bradford 
would  give  his  children  another  in  the  place 
of  it ;  he  was  a  rich  man,  a  dollar  was  noth- 
ing to  him. 

He  was  about  to  put  the  bos  back,  when 
the  thought  came  to  him,  why  take  only  one  ? 
Forgetting  in  his  guilty  haste  that  the  loss  of 
a  second  would  make  the  change  of  the  first 
more  easily  discovered,  he  touched  the  spring 
once  more,  took  out  another  dollar,  and  then 
hastily  replaced  the  box. 

The  deed  once  done,  half  his  fears  seemed 
to  pass  away.  How  easy  it  had  been  !  No 
one  had  seen  him,  no  one  heard  him ;  he  was 
going  away  with  his  father  and  mother  in  two 
days,  and  probably  no  one  would  find  out — • 


288  Bessie  in  the  City* 

the  theft  lie  would  not  say  to  himself  he 
called  it  the  loss. 

While  Mr.  Moore  was  out,  he  thought  that 
he  had  been  careless  in  the  matter  of  the  false 
note,  and  when  he  came  home,  looked  for  it, 
that  he  might  destroy  it.  But  it  was  gone, 
and  his  wife  could  tell  him  nothing  of  it.  He 
called  George,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  seen 
it.  George  hesitated,  and  seemed  so  confused 
that  his  father  was  sure  he  had  it,  and  asked 
how  he  had  dared  take  it,  when  he  knew  it 
to  be  bad. 

"  I  only  took  it  to  play  with,"  stammered 
George.  "  I  am  always  playing  store  with 
Maggie  and  Bessie,  and  I  thought  it  would  be 
nice  for  money." 

This  was  true,  as  Mr.  Moore  knew,  and, 
more  gently,  he  told  his  son  to  give  him  the 
note. 

"  I  threw  it  away,"  said  the  wicked  boy  ;  "  I 


The  Bank-No tes.  289 

thought  maybe  you  would  not  like  me  to  have 
it,  and  I  put  it  in  the  fire." 

"  All  right  then,"  said  Mr.  Moore,  "  but 
why  are  you  so  frightened  ?  you  have  done 
nothing  so  very  wrong,  though  it  would  have 
been  better  if  you  had  not  touched  the  note, 
and  I  am  myself  to  blame  for  leaving  it  where 
there  was  any  probability  that  it  might  be 
turned  to  a  bad  use." 

George  was  only  too  glad  that  he  had  es- 
caped so  easily,  and  had  no  feelings  of 
sorrow  for  having  deceived  his  kind,  good 
father. 

The  rest  of  that  day  and  the  whole  of  the 
next  passed,  and  he  heard  nothing  to  alarm 
him.  Every  one  was  more  kind  than  usual 
to  him,  though  he  himself  was  restless  and 
fretful,  for  all  thought  he  was  not  well.  He 
kept  out  of  the  way  of  the  other  children,  and 
spent  half  his  time  lounging  on  the  sofa  in  his 

19 


290  Bessie  in  the  City. 

mother's  room.  He  would  willingly  have 
spent  the  whole  of  his  time  there,  but  he  was 
tormented  with  the  fear  that  something  might 
have  been  discovered,  and  would  go  about 
among  the  family  to  make  sure  that  all  was 


"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  dancing  into  her 
mother's  room,  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day,  —  ^'  mamma,  nurse  says  this  is'  the  tenth 
of  the  month." 

"  Well,  Dimple,  what  of  that  ?  " 
"  Why,  mamma,  you  know  that  is  the  day 
you  give  us  the  glove-money,  and  here  are 
my  gloves, —  the  best  ones  quite,  quite  good, 
and  the  second-best  are  very  nice,  too  ;  Jane 
mended  them  yesterday ;  and  here  comes  Bes- 
sie with  hers,  and  they  are  very  nice ;  and  I 
have  had  only  one  pair  of  boot-laces  this 
month,  mamma,  and  so  do  you  not  think  we 
have  enough  for  the  log-cabin  library,  and  for 


The  Banl-Notes,  291 

Mary's  sack,  too  ?  We  want  to  buy  it  and 
give  it  to  her  for  Christmas,  if  you  will  let 
Jane  make  it.  I  think  we  shall  have  enough, 
mamma ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

Certahily  her  mother's  name  of  "  Dimple  " 
was  well  suited  to  Maggie  just  then  ;  for  mouth, 
cheeks,  and  chin  seemed  running  over  with 
smiles,  while  her  eyes  looked  as  if  they  would 
dance  out  of  her  head.  Nor  was  Bessie  much 
less  eager,  as  she  stood  beside  her  sister,  and 
the  four  little  hands  each  held  up  a  pair  of 
gloves. 

"  We  will  see,"  said  mamma.  ''  Papa  is  not 
quite  ready  to  go  down-stairs ;  we  shall  have 
time  to  count  it  up.  I  think  you  have  over 
five  dollars  in  your  box,  and  these  two,"  — 
as  she  spoke,  Mrs.  Bradford  took  some  money 
from  her  purse  —  "will  make  over  seven.  I 
think  we  shall  manage  to  buy  Mary's  sack 
out  of  that." 


292  Bessie  in  the   City. 

She  sat  down  upon  a  low  chair,  the  children 
standing  on  each  side,  and  taking  the  box 
from  the  drawer,  emptied  it  into  her  lap. 

"  A  pair  of  bootlaces  for  Maggie  and  one 
for  Bessie,  that  leaves  two  dollars  and  fifteen 
cents  for  this  month.  Now  here  is —  Why, 
what  a  crumpled  note !  How  came  this 
here  ?  "  and  Mrs.  Bradford  took  up  the  bill 
which  George  had  vainly  endeavored  to  smooth 
out.  "  I  thought  all  those  notes  papa  gave 
you  were  quite  clean  and  fresh.'' 

"  So  they  were,  mamma,  nice  and  new  and 
pretty ;  and,  mamma,  I  am  quite  sure  I  did 
not  muss  that  up  so,  and —  Why  there  are 
only  two  bills,  and  we  had  three  !  I  did  not 
lose  any,  mamma,  —  I  know  I  did  not,"  said 
poor  Maggie,  all  in  a  flutter,  lest  her  mother 
Ghould  think  this  was  some  of  her  old  careless- 
ness. 

"Do   not  be  frightened,  dear,"  said    Mrs. 


The  Bank-Notes.  293 

Bradford;  "  no  one  is  going  to  accuse  you,  or 
think  you  hav^e  been  careless  unless  there  is 
good  reason  for  it.  Henry,  will  you  come 
here  for  one  moment?  " 

Mr.  Bradford  came  from  his  dressing-room, 
hair-brush  in  hand. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  this  bill  ?  Have 
you  changed  any  of  the  children's  money  ?  " 
asked  his  wife. 

He  took  the  note  from  her  hand. 

*'  This  is  a  counterfeit,  and  a  very  poor  one 
too,"  he  said,  the  moment  he  looked  at  it. 
"  Have  either  of  you  ever  seen  it  before,  chil- 
dren ?  " 

"  No,  papa,"  said  Maggie.  *'  I  know  it  is 
not  one  of  our  bills.  We  kept  them  just  as 
nice  as  you  gave  them  to  us,  and  one  is  gone 
too." 

"  When  did  you  last  have  out  your  mon- 
ey ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford. 


294  Bessie  in  the  City* 

"  The  day  we  went  to  the  dentist's,  mamma. 
When  papa  gave  me  the  dollar  that  evening, 
I  went  for  the  box  and  put  it  in,  and  George 
counted  the  money  for  us,  and  there  were  three 
bills  there,  all  clean  and  new." 

*'  And  we  told  Harry  how  much  it  was,  and 
he  put  it  in  his  little  book,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  he 
always  keeps  how  much  we  have  in  his  little 
book,  mamma." 

"  Some  one  has  meddled  with  it,"  said  Mr. 
Bradford.  "  Tlie  notes  I  gave  the  children 
were  all  new  ones  on  the Bank." 

*'  Will  we  never  find  our  own  dollars,  do  you 
think,  papa  ? "  said  Maggie,  with  a  very  long 
face, 

"Yes,  indeed,  my  darling,  —  at  least,  you 
shall  have  others  in  their  place.  This  loss 
must  not  fall  on  you  after  all  your  efforts." 

"  I  should  have  locked   up  the  box,"  said 


The  Bank-Notes,  295 

Mrs.  Bradford.     ''  I  wish  I  had  taken  your  ad- 
vice, Henry." 

Mr.  Bradford  took  from  his  pocket-book  two 
other  bank-notes,  and  gave  them  to  the  chil 
dren. 

*'  I  do  not  wish  you  to  speak  of  this  to  any 
one,"  he  said  to  them ;  and  they  promised  to 
obey. 

Then  mamma  counted  up  all  the  money 
and  it  came  to  seven  dollars,  sixty-nine  cents, 
—  five  for  the  library,  and  the  rest  for  Mary's 
sack ;  for  Mrs.  Bradford  said  there  was  quite 
enough  to  buy  some  warm,  cheap  cloth,  and 
she  would  let  Jane  make  it  at  once,  that  it 
might  be  ready.  They  should  go  out  with  her 
that  day  and  help  choose  the  cloth. 

Mr.  Bradford  carefully  put  away  the  coun- 
terfeit note,  thinking  that  it  might  help  to  find 
out  the  guilty  person,  and  when  he  went  down- 
stairs, called  Harry  and  Fred  into  the  library. 


296  Bessie  in  the  City. 

"  Harry,"  he  said,  "  bow  much  money  was 
in  the  children's  box  when  you  counted  it  for 
them  the  other  day  ?  " 

"  Five  dollars,  sixty-nine  cents,  papa, — here 
't  is  written  down;  "  and  Harry,  who  was  very 
neat  and  orderly  in  all  his  ways,  pulled  out 
his  memorandum-book  and  read  "  M.'s  and  B.'s 
box,  Dec.  5th,  85.69  cents."  This  was  the  sum 
which  should  have  been  in  the  box,  and  showed 
that  the  money  had  been  taken  within  the  last 
few  days.  Mr.  Bradford  told  the  boys  of  the 
loss,  for  he  wished  that  they  should  know  of 
it,  but  he  charged  them  to  be  silent.  Both  he 
and  his  wife  were  very  uncomfortable.  There 
were  one  or  two  new  servants  iil  the  house, 
but  they  had  come  with  good  characters,  and 
there  was  no  reason  to  think  they  had  taken 
the  money.  None  of  them  knew  where  it 
was  kept,  or  the  secret  of  the  box.  Only  one 
besides  their  own  children  knew  that. 


WWW^'WW^WWW^xi^^^iiii 


1 

DISCOVERT. 

R.  and  Mrs.  Moore  and  their  son  were 
to  leave  early  the  next  morning,  and 
as  the  day  passed  on,  and  George  heard 
nothing  of  the  stolen  money,  he  began  to 
think  the  loss  would  not  be  found  out  till  he 
had  gone ;  and  then,  he  thought,  he  should  be 
quite  safe.  He  did  not  dare  to  spend  it  now, 
lest  the  Bradford  children  should  wonder 
where  the  money  came  from  ;  but  when  he 
went  home,  he  could  easily  do  so  without  dis- 
covery. He  had  been  visiting  at  his  uncle's 
before  he  came  here,  and  it  would  be  very 
easy  to  say  he  had  given  it  to  him.  The  last 
time  he  had  been  there,  his  uncle  had  given 
him  five  dollars ;  but  this  time,  nothing,     Tliere 


298  Bessie  in  the  City. 

were,  or  there  had  been,  more  than  five  dol- 
lars in  that  box ;  why  had  he  not  taken  it  all  ? 
It  was  just  as  easy  to  say  he  had  received  five 
dollars  as  two ;  and  when  it  was  missed,  it 
would  be  thought  some  of  the  servants  had 
taken  it,  or  that  it  had  been  lost  through  some 
of  Maggie's  carelessness.  He  had  gone  so  far 
in  sin  now,  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  go 
deeper  and  deeper ;  and  determined,  if  possi- 
ble, to  have  the  rest  of  the  contents  of  the 
box. 

That  evening  it  seemed  as  if  "  chance,"  as 
he  called  it,  was  again  about  to  favor  him. 
Mrs.  Stanton  and  Miss  Annie  were  there,  and 
after  dinner  all  the  ladies  and  the  younger 
children  were  gathered  in  the  parlor;  while 
the  two  boys  were  at  their  lessons  in  the  little 
study-room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  Mr. 
Moore  was  out.  Mr.  Bradford  had  left  the 
room  a  short'  time  since,  saying  he,  too,  must 


Discovery,  299 

go  out  for  a  while,  and  the  servants,  George 
knew,  were  at  their  tea.     Now  was  his  time. 

Making  some  excuse  to  leave  the  parlor,  he 
ran  up-stairs  till  he  reached  the  first  turning. 
The  door  of  the  study-room  stood  ajar.  •  Pshaw  ! 
The  boys  would  hear  him.  He  peeped  in. 
No  one  there  but  Harry,  studying  after  his 
usual  fashion,  with  his  elbows  on  the  table,  his 
head  between  his  hands,  and  his  fingers  thrust 
into  his  ears  to  shut  out  all  sound  that  might 
take  his  attention  from  his  book.  Fred  must 
have  gone  to  his  own  room  in  the  third  story. 
He  should  hear  him  if  he  came  down.  Head- 
long, noisy  Fred  was  sure  to  give  notice  of 
his  coming. 

But  he  must  make  haste.  There  is  not  a 
moment  to  lose.  Almost  forgetting  his  cau- 
tion in  his  guilty  hurry,  he  ran  quickly  up 
the  few  remaining  steps,  and  along  the  hall  to 
Mrs.  Bradford's  room.     He  stole  in  as  he  had 


300  Bessie  in  the  City, 

done  once  before.  The  jet  of  gas  in  th© 
burner  over  the  dressing-bureau  which  hold 
the  coveted  prize  was  turned  down  very  low, 
but  the  bright  fire  dancing  in  the  grate  made 
the  room  quite  light  enough  for  his  guilty 
purpose. 

He  opened  the  drawer  and  took  up  the  box. 
How  light  it  was  !  and  there  was  no  rattle  of 
pennies,  none  of  what  dear  little  Maggie  had 
called,  in  the  joy  of  her  heart,  "  her  log-cabin 
music."  He  touched  the  spring,  and  the  box 
flew  open.  Empty  !  He  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  into  it,  then  turned  it  up  to  the  firelight 
to  make  sure  there  was  nothing  within.  As 
he  did  so,  he  heard  steps  behind  him ;  a  hand 
was  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and  looking  up 
with  a  start,  he  saw  Mr.  Bradford's  face 
sternly  bent  upon  him,  while  at  his  elbow  he 
met  Fred's  clear,  honest  eyes  blazing  with 
scorn  and  indignation.     His  own  fell  to  the 


Discovery,  301 

ground,  and  there  he  stood,  like  the  mean, 
pitiful  thing  he  was,  trembling  and  cowering, 
the  open  box  still  in  his  hand. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then 
Fred  broke  forth. 

"  So  it  iDas  you,  you  rascal !  you  mean, 
sneaking,  cowardly  thief  I  You  are  the  fellow 
that  robs  little  girls  of  their  hard-earned 
money  !  You  —  you  —  you  —  "  Fred's  pas- 
sion was  choking  him. 

"  Hush,  hush,  my  son !  "  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford, sadly ;  "  it  is  not  for  you  to  reproach  this 
unhappy  boy.  Leave  him  to  me.  Go  to  your 
play,  if  you  can  play  after  what  you  have 
seen." 

Fred  laid  both  his  own  hands  on  that  which 
rested  on  George's  shoulder.  "  Take  your 
hand  from  him  then,  father  ;  he  is  not  fit  to 
be  touched  by  an  honest  man,  by  an  honora- 
ble gentleman  !     A  thief!  " 


302  Bessie  tn  the  City. 

"  Go,  go,  Fred,  and  do  not  speak  of  this 
till  you  see  me  again." 

Fred  obeyed,  as  he  knew  he  must  whea 
his  father  spoke  in  that  tone. 

'-'-  Now,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  sternly  to  the 
guilty  boy,  "  go  in  there ;  "  and  he  pointed  to 
the  door  of  his  dressing-room. 

Trembling,  and  fearing  he  knew  not  what, 
but  not  daring  to  disobey,  George  did  as  he 
was  told.  Mr.  Bradford  followed,  silently 
put  beyond  George's  reach  everything  on 
which  he  might  lay  his  hands,  locked  every 
drawer  and  closet,  and  then  turned  to  leave 
tlie  room. 

George  started  forward.  ''  What  are  you 
going  to  do  ?  "  he  stammered. 

"  Leave  you  here  till  your  father  comes.  I 
cannot  deal  with  you,  for,  thank  God,  you  are 
not  my  child." 

"  Oh,  don't,  don't!"  said  the  wretched  boy, 


Discovery,  303 

falling  on  his  knees.  "  Oh,  I  did  not  mean  to 
—  I  was  only  looking  —  he  will  punish  me 
so  —  I  would  not  have  taken  —  " 

"  Hush,  hush,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  "  and  do 
not  kneel  to  me.  Do  not  add  to  your  sin  by 
trying  to  deny  it,  but  think  over  what  you 
have  done ;  and  when  your  poor  father  comes, 
be  ready  to  make  confession  to  him,  and  to 
the  God  against  whom  you  have  sinned." 

''  But  don't  tell  father  ;  he  will  be  so  angry  ; 
he  minds  such  things  so  much.  He  —  he 
never  would  forgive  me." 

"  And  yet  the  son  of  such  a  father  could 
do  this  terrible  thing  ?  I  grieve  to  tell  him, 
George ;  rather,  far  rather,  even  for  my  own 
sake,  would  I  pass  over  this  in  silence,  and  let 
you  go  unpuntshed  ;  but  it  is  a  duty  I  owe  to 
you,  as  well  as  to  him,  not  to  let  you  go  on 
unchecked  in  sin.  I  see,  too,  poor  boy,  that  it 
is  the  fear  of  punishment,  not  of  distressing 


304  Bessie  in  the   City, 

your  kind  father,  which  makes  you  so  anxious 
that  1  should  not  tell  him.  You  do  not  yet 
see  your  guilt,  unhappy  child  ;  you  only  dread 
the  pain  and  shame  which  it  has  brought 
upon  yourself." 

As  Mr.  Bradford  ceased  speaking,  Mr. 
Moore's  short,  quick  step  was  heard  in  the 
hall,  and  the  next  moment  he  rapped  upon 
the  door.  Fred,  going  down-stairs,  had  met 
him  coming  in,  and  was  asked  where  George 
was.  He  had  answered,  "  Up-stairs  ;  "  but  he 
had  been  so  shocked  and  distressed  by  what 
he  had  seen  that  Mr.  Moore  had  noticed  his 
manner,  and  asked  if  anything  were  wrong 
with  George.  Fred  would  not  say  what  the 
trouble  was,  but  told  Mr.  Moore  where  he 
would  jGind  his  son. 

Mr.  Bradford  opened  the  door. 

"  Fred  told  me  that  George  was  here,"  said 
Mr.  Moore,  looking  much  disturbed.     "  What 


Discovery,  303 

? "  he  asked,  as  he  saw  his  son's 
guilty,  miserable  face. 

"  Will  you  tell  your  father,  George,  or  shall 
I  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Bradford. 

But  George  only  cried  and  sobbed,  saying, 
"  he  did  not  mean  to  —  it  was  very  hard  —  he 
was  only  looking"  —  till  Mr.  Moore  onco 
more  asked  Mr.  Bradford  to  explain  what  all 
this  meant. 

Mr.  Bradford  told  the  story  in  as  few  words 
as  possible,  —  how  his  little  daughters  had 
shown  George  the  secret  of  the  box,  telling 
him  why  they  were  laying  by  the  money  ; 
how  that  morning  two  of  the  notes  had  been 
missed,  and  the  false  one  found  in  their  place 
(as  he  spoke,  taking  the  bill  from  his  pocket- 
book  and  handing  it  to  Mr.  Moore)  ;  how  Mrs. 
Bradford  had  put  the  rest  of  the  money  in  a 
safer  place  ;  and  lastly,  how  he  and  Fred  had 
.just  seen  George  go  to  the  drawer  and  tako 
20 


3o6  Bessie  in  the   City. 

out  the  box,  as  if  with  the  intention  of  adding 
to  his  sin  by  a  new  theft. 

It  was  a  hard  thing  for  Mr.  Bradford  to  do ; 
he  knew  how  he  should  feel  himself  if  one  of 
his  own  boys  had  done  this.  He  was  very 
much  grieved  for  his  friend,  and  when  he  had 
told  all  as  gently  as  possible,  he  went  away, 
and  left  him  alone  with  his  unhappy  son. 
What  passed  between  them  it  is  not  necessary 
to  tell  you.  George  would  have  denied  his 
guilt  even  now,  but  the  false  note  in  his 
father's  hand  made  this  impossible. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  did  not  see  him  again, 
for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moore  left  the  next  morn- 
ing at  an  hour  even  earlier  than  they  had 
intended  ;  for  after  this  terrible  sorrow  had 
come  upon  them,  they  felt  that  they  could  not 
bear  to  meet  any  of  Mr.  Bradford's  children 
again. 

Perhaps  you  may  like  to  know  how  Fred 


Discovery,  307 

and  his  father  discovered  George's  guilt.  It 
so  happened  that  Fred's  quick  temper  had 
brought  him  into  more  trouble  at  school,  and 
he  did  not  know  exactly  how  to  act  in  the 
matter.  He  had  finished  his  lessons,  and  was 
thinking  this  over  when  he  heard  his  father 
come  up-stairs  and  go  to  his  dressing-room. 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  tell  papa,  and  see 
what  he  says  of  it,"  he  said  to  him<?elf.  To 
think  and  to  do  were  with  Fred  one  and  the 
same  thing;  and  the  next  moment  he  was 
with  his  father,  asking  if  he  would  wait  and 
hear  his  story.  He  might  have  been  sure  of 
that ;  Mr.  Bradford  always  had  time  to  spare 
if  his  children  needed  his  help  or  advice. 

Fred  told  his  story,  and  they  were  sitting 
talking  it  over  in  low  tones  when  George's 
step  was  heard  in  the  next  room.  Tfie  dress- 
ing-room was  quite  in  the  shade,  and  though 
George  neither  saw  nor  heard  thosa  yho  were 


3o8  Bessie  in  the   City, 

within,  he  himself  was  plainly  seen  through 
the  open  door,  at  his  guilty  work. 

And  now,  like  our  Maggie  and  Bessie,  we 
need  have  no  more  to  do  with  this  poor  boy, 
and  will  take  leave  of  him.  The  little  girls 
were  not  told  that  the  thief  had  been  dis- 
covered. Their  mother  thought  it  would 
only  shock  and  distress  them,  while  it  could 
serve  no  good  purpose  for  them  to  know  it. 
They  wondered,  and  talked  of  it  between 
themselves  for  a  few  days ;  and  then  there 
were  so  many  pleasanter  things  to  think  of  that 
they  forgot  all  about  it. 


XV 


THE  SNOW. 


'HESE  were  indeed  pleasant  times,  and 
HI  very  happy  children  were  our  Maggie 


and  Bessie.  The  only  trouble  was  that  night 
would  come,  and  put  an  end  to  first  one  and 
then  another  of  these  delightful  days,  and 
that,  as  Maggie  said,  they  had  to  stop  enjoy- 
ing themselves  "just  to  go  to  sleep." 

"  I  wish  the  sun  always  shone  in  this  coun- 
try," she  said,  "  and  that  night  never,  never 
came." 

"  What  would  the  little  children  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world  say  to  that  ? "  said 
papa.  "If  you  had  the  ruling  of  day  and 
night,  and  kept  the  sun  all  the  time  on  one 


3l6  Bessie  in  the   City. 

side,  how  do  you  think  they  would  like  to 
have  it  always  night  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  did  not  think  about  that,"  said 
Maggie.  "  I  suppose  it  would  be  pretty  selfish. 
I  guess  I  had  better  wish  for  two  suns,  one  on 
our  side,  and  one  on  theirs." 

"  Or,  better  still,  rest  satisfied  that  our  heav- 
enly Father  has  ordered  all  thin-gs,  night  and 
day,  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  as  is  best  for  his 
own  glory  and  the  happiness  and  comfort  of 
all  his  creatures,"  said  Mr.  Bradford.  ''  1 
think  even  my  wide-awake  Maggie  would  tire 
of  the  light  of  the  sun  if  it  should  shine  for 
the  twenty-four  hours,  day  after  day,  and  the 
quiet,  blessed  night  never  come,  when  we 
might  close  our  tired  eyes,  and  take  the  rest 
we  need." 

"  Could  we  not  sleep  "in  the  day-time  if  we 
were  tired,  papa  ?  " 

"  We  might   sleep,  but  not  as  well  or  as 


The  Snow,  311 

pleasantly  as  we  now  do  when  all  is  dark  and 
quiet." 

*'  Then  if  I  was  to  wish  for  two  suns,  I'd 
better  wish  we  should  never  be  tired  or 
sleepy." 

*'  So  you  might  go  on  wishing  forever,  and 
if  you  had  the  power,  changing  first  one  and 
then  another  of  the  wise  laws  which  our  Fa- 
ther in  heaven  has  made  for  the  good  of  all. 
And  what  distress  and  confusion  this  would 
make  !  What  a  miserable,  unhappy  world 
this  would  be  if  you,  or  some  other  weak, 
human  creature  who  cannot  see  the  end  from 
the  beginning,  and  cannot  tell  what  would  be 
the  consequence  of  his  wishes,  were  allowed 
such  power.  No,  we  may  thank  God,  not  only 
that  he  does  what  is  best  for  us,  but  also  that 
he  has  allowed  none  but  himself  to  be  the 
judge  of  this." 

"  So  I  had  better  be  contented  to  have  the 


312  Bessie  in  the  City, 

night  as  it  is,  papa  ;  is  that  what  you  mean  ? 
Perhaps  other  people  would  not  like  to  have 
things  as  I  did,  and  they  might  think  I  was  a 
very  disagreeable  child  to  have  them  my  way  ; 
and  I  should  not  like  that  at  all." 

"  I  would  not  be  glad  if  there  was  never 
any  night,"  said  Bessie,  who  was  always  more 
ready  than  her  sister  to  go  to  rest. 

"  Then  I  wont  wish  it,"  said  Maggie ; 
"  and  I  shall  just  always  try  to  think  '  our 
Father '  knows  best,  even  if  I  don't  feel 
quite  suited  myself." 

One  afternoon,  about  dark,  it  began  to 
snow,  much  to  the  children's  delight;  for 
grandmamma  had  promised  a  sleigh-ride 
whenever  it  should  be  possible.  All  night  the 
soft,  feathery  flakes  fell  gently  and  steadily, 
so  that  in  the  morning  the  ground  was  cov- 
ered thickly  with   a  beautiful  white  mantle. 

Since  the  weather   had   become  cold,  each 


The  Snow.  313 

day,  after  breakfast,  Maggie  and  Bessie  were 
allowed  to  throw  out  crumbs  for  the  spar- 
rows and  chickadees,  who  came  about  the 
house  to  find  something  to  eat.  The  birds 
seemed  to  know  the  hour  almost  as  well  as 
the  children,  and  seldom  came  for  their 
breakfast  before  the  right  time.  But  on 
this  morning  the  little  girls  were  scarcely 
down-stairs,  when  their  brother  called  them 
to  come  and  see  what  a  flock  of  their  pets 
had  already  gathered  on  the  piazza  and  win- 
dow-ledge. For  the  ground  being  all  covered 
with  snow,  there  were  no  stray  crumbs  or 
seeds  to  be  found  ;  and  the  chickadees  and 
sparrows,  being  early  risers,  found  themselves 
hungry  and  in  need  of  their  regular  break- 
fast rather  sooner  than  usual ;  and  now  the 
prints  of  their  tiny  feet  were  to  be  seen  all 
over  the  snow,  while  twice  the  ordinary 
number  of   birds   hopped   about  the   piazza. 


314  Bessie  in  the   City, 

or  perched  upon  the  railing  and  window- 
ledge,  chirping  away,  twitching  their  little 
heads  from  side  to  side,  and  watching  the 
children  with  their  bright,  twinkling  eyes 
as  if  asking  what  made  them  so  late. 

Away  ran  Maggie  to  ask  Patrick  for  a 
piece  of  bread,  and  came  back  with  a  rush 
and  a  jump  and  a  sudden  shove  at  the  win- 
dow which  put  every  mother's  bird  of  them 
to  flight.  In  her  hurry  to  feed  them,  she 
quite  forgot  that  they  were  so  easily  startled, 
and  was  much  distressed  when  she  saw  them 
all  flying  off  in  a  great  fright. 

However,  the  bread  was  crumbled  and 
thrown  out ;  and  by  the  time  prayers  were 
over,  the  whole  flock  were  back  again,  peck- 
ing away  with  much  satisfaction,  and  twit- 
tering and  chirping  as  if  they  were  telling 
each  other  what  very  kind  people  lived  in 
this    house,   and    how  thankful    they   should 


The  Snow,  315 

be  for  such  good  friends.  At  least,  this  was 
what  Maggie  told  Frankj  they  meant,  as 
he  watched  them  with  his  chubby  face  pressed 
close  against  the  window-pane. 

"  No  shoes  and  stottins,"  said  he.  "  Poor 
birdies !  Dere  foots  too  told.  Mamma  buy 
shoe  for  birdies." 

His  little  sisters  thought  this  very  sweet 
and  funny  in  Franky,  and  they  hugged  and 
kissed  him  till  he  thought  he  had  said  some- 
thing very  fine,  and  kept  repeating  it  over 
and  over  again. 

Pretty  soon  it  stopped  ^snowing,  and  the 
sun  came  out.  Then  Maggie  and  Bessie  were 
much  amused  in  watching  the  people  clearing 
the  snow  from  the  sidewalks,  and  the  boys 
snow-balling  one  another.  Presently  Mrs. 
Bradford  missed  Franky  from  the  room. 
As  she  had  the  baby,  she  could  not  go  after 
him,  but  sent  Maggie. 


310  Bessie  in  the  City, 

She  ran  from  room  to  room,  but  could  not 
find  her  little  brother.  When  she  opened 
the  nursery  door,  and  put  in  her  head,  she 
rather  wondered  to  see  the  bureau-drawers 
open,  and  several  things  lying  scattered  oyer 
the  floor ;  but  she  did  not  think  much  about 
it,  for  there  was  no  one  there,  and  she  must 
find  Franky.  As  she  went  down-stairs 
again,  she  saw  the  back-door  was  standing 
open,  and  went  to  shut  it.  Here  she  met 
Franky  coming  in  with  very  rosy  cheeks,  and 
his  face  all  smiles,  as  if  he  were  well  pleased 
with  himself. 

"  Oh,  Franky  !  "  said  Maggie,  "  what  made 
you  go  out  in  the  cold  with  no  hat  and  coat  ? 
Didn't  you  hear  me  calling  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Franky. 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  come  ?  " 

''  Me  too  busy,"  said  the  little  boy  ;  and 
away  he   ran   into  the   parlor,  while  Maggie 


The  Snow,  317 

went  to  shut  the  door.  To  her  great  surprise, 
she  saw  the  piazza  strewn  with  shoes  and 
stockings,  —  her  own,  Bessie's,  and  Franky's, 
and  even  a  pair  or  two  of  baby's  little  worsted 
socks.     She  came  in,  and  followed  Franky. 

"  Franky,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  did  you 
not  hear  mamma  calling?" 

"  Yes'm,"  said  he  again,  "  but  me  too 
busy." 

"  But  you  must  always  come  right  away 
when  mamma  calls.  What  were  you  do- 
ing?" 

"  Me  dave  de  birdies  shoes  and  stottins," 
said  Franky  ;  "  dere  foots  too  told." 

Then  Maggie  told  her  mother  what  Franky 
had  done,  and  nurse  coming  in  just  then,  Mrs. 
Bradford  sent  her  to  see.  Sure  enough,  the 
little  rogue  had  gone  up-stairs,  and  filling  his 
skirt  with  his  own  and  his  sisters'  shoes  and 
stockings,  had  scattered  them  upon  the  piaz^za, 


3i8  Bessie  in  trie   City, 

thinking  that  the  birds  could  make  use  of 
them.  Maggie  and  Bessie  thought  this  a 
most  capital  joke,  and  even  nurse,  who  was 
much  displeased,  could  not  help  smiling  as 
she  heard  their  merry  peals  of  laughter. 
Mamma  did  not  scold  Franky,  for  she  did  not 
think  he  meant  to  do  anything  naughty,  but 
she  told  him  he  must  never  do  so  again,  and 
that  the  birds  did  not  need  shoes  and  stock- 
ings to  keep  their  feet  warm. 

"  But,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  how  is  it  the 
birds  do  not  have  their  feet  frozen  in  the  sno"v^ 
and  the  cold  ?  If  we  were  to  go  hopping 
about  with  bare  feet,  it  would  hurt  very  much, 
and  we  would  be  sick  ;  but  the  sparrows  do 
not  mind  it  at  all." 

"  Because  God  has  fitted  them,  dear,  as  he 
has  all  his  creatures,  for  the  life  which  he 
means  them  to  lead.  He  has  given  to  the 
sparrows  and  chickadees,  not  soft,  tender  feet 


The  ^now,  319 

like  yours,  but  horny  claws  on  which  they 
can  hop  over  the  snow  and  gravel  without 
feeling  the  cold,  or  being  hurt.  See  by  this 
how  he  has  cared  for  all  he  has  made ;  the 
smallest  or  weakest  bird  or  animal  is  known 
and  watched  over  by  his  all-seeing  eye. 
When  our  Saviour  was  on  earth,  he  chose 
these  little  birds  to  teach  us  a  most  precious 
lesson.  Once  when  he  was  talking  to  his  dis- 
ciples, after  telling  them  that  they  were  to 
fear  God,  and  not  man,  he  wished  to  show 
them  how  constant  and  watchful  was  God's 
care  of  his  people,  and  he  said,  '  Are  not  two 
sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  ?  and  one  of  them 
shall  not  fall  to  the  ground  without  your 
Father.  But  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are 
all  numbered.  Fear  ye  not  therefore ;  ye 
are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.'  A 
Roman  farthing  was  less  than  a  cent  and 
a   half,  so   that   one   of  these   sparrows   cost 


320  Bessie  in  the  City, 

less  than  a  penny,  and  this  was  meant  to 
teach  us  that  if  each  of  these  little  birds  which 
was  wortli  so  small  a  sum  is  known  and  re- 
membered by  the  Almighty  ;  if  not  one  of 
them  can  fall  and  die  unless  he  sees  it,  how 
great  must  be  his  care  and  love  for  us,  whom 
he  has  called  '  of  more  value  than  many  spar- 
rows,' and  for  whom  he  gave  his  only  Son  to 
die  upon  the  cross.  It  is  a  very  sweet  and 
comforting  thought  to  know  that  he  never  for- 
gets us,  and  that  no  harm  can  come  near  us, 
unless  he  knows  and  permits  it." 

"  And  it  ought  to  make  us  think  that  he 
sees  what  we  are  doing,  and  knows  if  we  are 
even  a  little  bit  naughty.  Ought  it  not, 
mamma  ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Yes,  darling,  and  it  should  make  us  very 
careful  not  to  grieve  or  displease  him  by  even 
a  wicked  thought  or  angry  feeling." 

"  'Cause  when  he  sees  it,  he  thinks  we  are 


The  Snow.  321 

ungrateful  about  his  Jesus,"  said  the  thought- 
ful little  Bessie. 

This  was  Saturday  and  a  holiday,  when  the 
children  had  no  lessons,  and  the  boys  did  not 
go  to  school ;  and  about  twelve  o'clock  Harry 
and  Fred  came  in  with  Tom  Norris,  Walter 
Stone,  and  Johnny  Ransom  ;  they  were  all  four 
going  into  the  yard  to  build  a  snow-man,  and 
Harry  begged  that  his  sisters  might  go,  too, 
saying  that  he  and  Fred  would  take  care  of 
them.  Mamma  had  no  doubt  of  this,  and  she 
said  Maggie  might  go,  but  she  was  afraid  to 
have  Bessie  play  in  the  snow,  lest  she  should 
take  cold.  Maggie  said  she  would  not  go  if 
her  sister  might  not ;  but  Bessie  told  her  to 
go,  and  she  would  stand  at  the  library-window 
and  watch  them  at  their  work.  Maggie  still 
hesitated,  but  her  mother  said  she  would  see 
that  her  sister  did  not  feel  lonely  while  she 
21 


322  Bessie  in  the   City, 

was  gone,  and  having  been  well  wrapped  up, 
she  at  last  went  with  the  boys. 

To  say  that  Bessie  was  not  disappointed  and 
did  not  very  much  wish  that  she,  too,  might 
have  a  share  in  the  delightful  play,  would  not 
be  true.  But  though  a  tear  came  into  her 
eye  as  she  saw  the  others  run  off,  she  bore  it 
bravely. 

"  Mamma,  you  would  be  sure  to  let  me  go 
if  you  thought  it  best ;  wouldn't  you  ?  "  she 
asked,  lifting  her  face  to  her  mother  to  be 
kissed. 

"  Indeed,  I  would,  my  sweet  child  ;  you  may 
be  certain  mamma  would  never  take  from  you 
any  pleasure  she  thought  safe  for  you  ;  but  it 
would  be  wrong  and  foolish  in  me  to  let  you 
go  when  you  would  probably  take  cold  and  be 
sick.  And  now  what  shall  we  do  to  amuse 
ourselves.  If  you  like  to  stand  by  the  window 
and  see  the  boys,  I  will  bring  my  work  and 


The  Snow.  323 

tell  jou  a  story,  or  we  will  sit  by  the  fire,  and 
I  will  read  to  you." 

Bessie  chose  the  first,  for  she  said  that 
would  be  two  pleasures  at  one  time. 

When  Mrs.  Bradford  came  back  witli  her 
work-basket,  Bessie  was  standing  on  a  chair 
by  the  window,  and  she  turned  to  her  mother 
with  a  very  bright  face. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  "  come  and  see  what 
a  nice  time  Maggie  is  having.  I  think  I  am 
'most  glad  you  didn't  let  me  go,  'cause  if  I  was 
playing  myself,  I  could  not  see  how  much  she 
'joys  herself.  Just  hear  her  laugh  !  "  and  Bes- 
sie laughed  merrily  herself. 

Mamma  stooped  and  kissed  her  sweet-tem- 
pered, generous  little  daughter,  who,  instead 
of  fretting  and  making  herself  and  others 
miserable  because  she  could  not  do  as  she 
wished,  not  only  contented  herself  with  the 
pleasures  which   were  left  to  her,  but  really 


324  Bessie  m  the   City, 

tried  to  find  comfort  in  her  very  disappoiut- 
ment. 

Maggie  did  indeed  seem  to  be  enjoying  her- 
self. The  boys  had  begun  their  snow-man. 
but  she  found  that  rather  hard  work,  and,  hav- 
ing asked  leave,  was  snow-balling  her  playfel- 
lows with  all  her  might.  She  was  not  very 
apt  to  hit  them,  for  her  small  hands  could  not 
take  very  sure  aim  in  her  thick  worsted  mit- 
tens ;  but  whenever  she  missed  her  mark,  she 
became  only  more  eager,  and,  hit  or  miss,  her 
gleeful  laugh  rang  out  all  the  same.  Mrs 
Bradford  found  that  no  story  was  needed ;  so 
engaged  was  Bessie  in  watching  the  frolicsome 
antics  of  her  sister,  that  she  had  no  thought 
of  anything  else.  In  the  height  of  her  play, 
Maggie  did  not  forget  every  few  moments  to 
stop  and  kiss  her  hand  and  nod  and  smile  at 
the  two  dear  faces  in  the  library-window. 
When  her  mother  thought  she  had  been  out 


The  Snow,  325 

long  enough,  she  called  her  in,  and  she  came 
all  glowing  and  rosy  with  her  play  in  the  fresh, 
cold  air. 

''  Tom  says  the  sleighing  is  splendid,  I 
hope  grandmamma  wont  forget  us." 

'-'•  No  fear  of  that,"  said  mamma  ;  and  she 
had  scarcely  spoken  when  Aunt  Annie's  smil- 
ing face  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Well,  little  polar-bear,  where  did  you 
come  from  ?  "  she  asked,  taking  hold  of  the 
bundle  of  furs  and  wrappings  which  called 
itself  Maggie. 

"  Out  of  the  icebergs  to  eat  you  up," 
growled  Maggie,  pretending  to  be  the  bear 
Aunt  Annie  had  called  her. 

"  Yery  well,  sir,  I  suppose  you  have  a  good 
appetite  since  you  have  come  so  far ;  but,  of 
course,  if  I  am  eaten  up,  you  cannot  expect 
my  mother  to  go  sleigh-riding  with  the  fellow 
that  has  made  a  meal  upon  her  child." 


326  ,  Bessie  in  the   City, 

When  Maggie  heard  this,  she  declared  that 
she  was  no  longer  a  polar-bear,  but  just  Aunt 
Annie's  own  little  niece,  wlto  would  not  eat  hei 
up  even  if  she  were  starving,  and  whom  it 
was  quite  safe  to  take  sleigh-inding.  Both 
she  and  Bessie  were  wild  with  delight.  Tliej 
could  scarcely  eat  tlieir  dinner,  and  the  mo- 
ment it  was  over,  ran  away  to  the  nursery  to 
be  dressed  for  the  ride. 

When  the  sleigh  came  to  the  door,  Aunt 
Annie  said  she  had  two  polar-bears  to  ride 
with  her,  and  pretended  to  be  quite  alarmed. 
But  both  the  bears  proved  to  be  very  Well-be- 
haved, and  neither  bit  nor  scratched  ;  although 
they  did  now  and  then  hug  a  little  as  they  sat, 
the  one'  between  mamma  and  grandmamma, 
and  the  other  between  Aunt  Annie  and  Aunt 
Helen  ;  for  Aunt  Helen  had  come  from  River- 
side to  make  her  mother  a  visit  and  to  stay  till 
after  Christmas. 


The  Snow,  327 

"  We  are  to  have  a  Christmas  tree,  Aunt 
Helen,"  said  Maggie. 

"  And  all  our  people  are  to  come,"  said 
Bessie. 

"  We  have  a  great  deal  to  do  yet,"  said 
Maggie.  "  There  are  a  great  many  presents 
to  buy,  and  Christmas  will  be  here  one  week 
from  yesterday,  mamma  said  so.  Aunt  An 
nie,  you  said  you  would  take  us  shopping 
for  those  things  mamma  is  not  to  know 
about." 

*'  Very  well,"  said  Aunt  Annie,  laughing. 
*'  I  suppose  1  may  as  well  give  up  Monday  to 
it,  if  your  mother  will  let  you  go." 

Mamma  was  quite  willing  it  should  be  so,  if 
the  weather  were  fine.  The  things  which  she 
was  not  to  know  about  were  her  own,  and 
papa's  Christmas  presents.  The  book-marks 
were  all  worked.  Those  for  Colonel  and  Mrs 
Rush  were  quite  finished  and  laid  away ;  but 


328  Bessie  in  the   City. 

the  two  which  were  intended  for  papa  and 
mamma  still  wanted  the  ribbon,  and  this  was 
one  of  the  things  to  be  bought.  Then  Mag- 
gie was  to  buy  some  trifle  for  papa,  and  Bessie 
one  for  mamma.  They  were  not  trifles  to 
them,  however,  but  very  great  and  important 
purchases,  and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  whis- 
pering and  hiding  in  corners.  It  was  rather  a 
singular  circumstance,  but  one  which  was  very 
convenient,  that  mamma  never  asked  what 
they  were  doing,  or  even  seemed  to  see  that 
they  were  engaged  with  some  work  in  which 
she  was  not  asked  to  help. 

They  had  a  lovely  drive.  All  the  sleighs 
and  cutters  in  the  city  seemed  to  have  turned 
out  for  the  first  fine  sleighing  ;  and  the  air 
was  full  of  the  jingling  of  the  merry  bells, 
and  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  boys  as 
they  pelted  each  other  with  snow-balls,  or 
went    skimming   along  on    their   sleds.     The 


The  Snow,  329 

Central  Park  looked  beautiful  in  its  pure 
white  dress  which  lay  so  smoothly,  just  as  it 
had  fallen  from  the  liand  of  the  kind  Father 
above  ;  and  Maggie  said  the  trees  and  bushes 
thought  white  feathers  were  becoming,  and  so 
had  dressed  themselves  out  as  if  they  were 
going  to  a  Christmas  party. 


XVL 


SHOPPING    FOR    CHRISTMAS. 


N  Monday  afternoon  Aunt  Annie  came 
for  the  children,  according  to  promise, 
and  Aunt  Helen  was  with  her. 

"  For  1  have  a  little  business  with  Maggie," 
said  Mrs.  Duncan  ;  "  but  no  one  else  is  to 
know  what  it  is,  so  mamma  and  Bessie  are  to 
ask  no  questions." 

This  was  delightfully  mysterious. 

"  Nobody  is  to  ask  questions  at  Christmas- 
time," said  Bessie,  gravely.  "  Mamma  made 
that  yule." 

*'  And  it  is  a  wise  one  too,"  said  Aunt 
Helen. 

"  How  long  do  you  suppose  our  Meg  can 
keep  a  secret,  Aunt  Helen  ?  "  asked  Fred. 


Shopping  for  Christmas,  331 

"  I  know  she  has  kept  one  for  three  months 
so  well,  that  I  am  gohig  to  trust  her  with  a 
second." 

"  Pretty  good  for  Midget,"  said  Fred. 

It  was  indeed  a  triumph  for  heedless  Mag- 
gie. So  carefully  had  she  kept  the  secret  of 
the  picture,  not  even  saying,  "  I  know  some- 
thing," or,  "  Something  is  going  to  happen," 
that  mamma  suspected  nothing  ;  and  though 
Bessie  knew  tliere  was  a  secret,  she  had  not 
the  least  idea  what  it  might  be. 

Aunt  Helen  started  first  with  Maggie,  tell- 
ing her  sister  Annie  and  Bessie  to  meet  them 
in  a  certain  book-store. 

*'  Now,  Maggie,"  she  said  when  they  were 
in  the  street.  "  I  am  going  to  reward  you  for 
keeping  our  secret  by  letting  you  choose  the 
frame  for  the  picture." 

The  little  girl  was  delighted,  but  when  they 
reached  the  store,  and  she  saw  frames  of  all 


332  Bessie  in  the   City, 

kinds  and  sizes,  she  became  confused,  and 
could  not  tell  which  to  decide  upon 

"  That  one  is  too  large,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan, 
as  Maggie  pointed  out  one  she  thought  she 
should  like.  "  No,  dear,  that  is  too  small 
again.  There,"  and  her  aunt  laid  four  or  five 
of  tiie  proper  size,  in  front  of  the  child; 
*'  any  of  those  will  do  ;  suppose  you  choose 
one  from  among  them." 

So,  after  some  more  hesitation,  Maggie  chose 
a  dark  walnut  frame,  with  silver  nails  ;  and 
Aunt  Helen  said  she  had  shown  very  good 
taste.  Then  Mrs.  Duncan  gave  the  man  di- 
rections about  the  picture,  which  she  had  sent 
to  him  in  the  morning.  He  bowed  and  wrote 
them  down,  and  then  said,  looking  at  the 
rosy,  happy  face  which  was  peeping  at  him 
over  the  counter,  "  'Tis  a  capital  likeness 
too,  ma'am  ;  never  saw  a  better." 

"  Aunt  Helen,"  said  Maggie,   as  they  left 


Shoj>fing for   Chrishnas,  '^'t^i^ 

the  store,  "  did  that  man  mean  he  knew  our 
Bessie,  and  thought  you  made  a  good  picture 
of  her  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  were  to  ask  no  questions  at 
Christmas-time,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Ma^o-ie.  "  I  did  not  know  I 
must  not  ask  about  things  like  that ;  I  thought 
mamma  meant  bundles  and  work,  and  such 
things." 

Aunt  Helen  only  laughed,  and  began  to  talk 
of  something  else,  and  presently  they  came  to 
the  book-store,  where  Annie  and  Bessie  were 
waiting  for  them. 

At  the  lower  end  of  this  store  was  a  large 
table,  and  upon  it  were  a  number  of  beauti- 
ful and  useful  things  intended  for  presents. 
There  were  waiting-cases  and  work-boxes,  pa- 
per-cutters and  weights,  beautiful  pictures 
and  all  kinds  of  knick-knacks. 

''  Aunt  Helen,-'  said  Maggie,  eagerly,  "  do 


334  Bessie  in  the  City, 

you  not  think  we  could  find  sometliing  oii 
that  table  that  would  make  nice  presents  for 
papa  and  mamma  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan,  "  if 
you  could  pay  for  them ;  but  I  fear,  dear 
Maggie,  all  those  pretty  things  are  quite  too 
expensive  for  you  to  buy." 

''  Well,"  said  the  little  girl,  with  a  sigh, 
"I  suppose  we  may  look  at  them  while  you 
and  Aunt  Annie  buy  your  books ;  may  we 
not  ?  " 

"  If  I  thought  I  could  trust  you  not  to 
touch  anything,  you  might.  But  some  of 
those  tilings  are  very  costly,  and  you  might 
do  much  mischief  if  you  meddled  with  them." 

"  Aunt  Helen,"  said  Bessie,  looking  up 
with  a  very  sober  face,  "  we  never  meddle 
when  we  go  shopping.  Mamma  has  taught  us 
that,  and  gen-yally  we  yemember  what  she 
tells  us." 


Shopping  for   Christmas,  335 

*'I"  believe  you  do,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan, 
smiling.  "Well,  then,  I  will  trust  you;" 
and  she  and  her  sister  walked  to  the  other 
end  of  the  store  to  look  at  some  books,  leaving 
the  children  to  amuse  themselves. 

A  gentleman  was  sitting  near  the  table 
reading  a  newspaper,  and  when  Bessie  had 
spoken  out  so  solemnly,  he  had  looked  up 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  The  little  girls  did 
not  notice  him,  however,  nor  did  he  seem  to 
be  paying  attention  to  them.  They  walked 
round  and  round,  now  peeping  at  this  thing, 
now  at  that,  but  never  offering  to  lay  a  finger 
upon  one. 

"Oh,"  said  Maggie.  "I  do  wish,  I  do 
wish  we  could  buy  some  of  these  beautiful 
things  for  papa  and  mamma !  But  I  suppose 
we'll  have  to  wait  till  we're  quite  grown  up, 
and  then  perliaps  they  will  all  be  gone.  Just 
see  tliis  paper-weight,  Bessie.     Would  it  not 


33^  Bessie  in  the   City* 

be  nice  for  papa  ?  But  I  think  it  costs  a  great 
deal,  and  I  can  only  afford  twenty  cents." 

"  And  see  this  lovely  little  picture,  Maggie. 
Mamma  would  like  it  so,  I  know.  See,  it  has 
the  cross  and  a  pretty  vine  all  around  it,  and 
some  words.     Can  you  yead  it  ?  " 

"  S-i-m  —  sim,"  spelt  Maggie,  "  p-l-y — ply, 
simply  —  to  —  thy  —  cross  —  Oh  !  it  must  be 
'  Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  it's  out  of  '  Yock  of 
Ages,'  and  mamma  loves  that  hymn  so  much. 
Oh !  I  do  want  it  for  her !  Do  you  think 
twenty  cents  will  buy  it,  Maggie  ?  " 

"I  guess  not ;  but  we'll  ask.  I'd  like  to  be 
grown  up  for  two  things,  so  I'd  never  have  to 
go  to  bed  till  I  chose,  and  so  I  could  have 
plenty  of  money  to  give  everybody  everything 
they  wanted.  Just  see  that  picture  of  a  dog, 
Bessie.  Does  it  not  look  like  our  Flossy  ?  I 
wish  it  was  nearer,  so  we  could  see  it  better." 


SJioffing  for   Christmas.  337 

<'  I  can't  see  it  at  all,"  said  Bessie,  raising 
herself  on  tiptoe,  to  gain  a  view  of  tlie  picture 
which  was  in  the  centre  of  the  table.  "  I 
wish  it  was  nearer,  but  we  must  not  touch." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  him  better,  too,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  I  want  to  know  if  he  really  is  like 
Flossy,  or  if  he  just  looks  so  'cause  he  is  so 
far  off;  I  know  I  wouldn't  break  it  either  if  I 
moved  it;  but  then — we  promised." 

"  And  mamma  said  we  were  never  to  touch 
without  permission,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  and  we're 
trusted." 

They  both  stood  for  some  minutes,  Maggie 
looking  wishfully  at  the  dog,  Bessie  still  stretch- 
ing up  her  neck  in  a  vain  attempt  to  see  him, 
when  Maggie  suddenly  said,  "  Bessie,  mam- 
ma said  it  was  not  right  to  put  ourselves  in 
the  way  of  temptation,  and  I  think  I  am 
doing  it.  This  was  just  the  way  I  did  the 
day  I  meddled  with  papa's  inkstand.  I  stood 
22 


335  •     i^essie  in  the   City, 

looking  at  it,  and  looking  at  it,  and  wishing  1 
had  it,  till  at  last  I  touched  it,  and  did  such  a 
lot  of  mischief.  I  sha'n't  look 'at  the  dog  any 
more,  and  let's  go  to  the  other  side,  and  we 
wont  think  about  it." 

As  they  turned  to  do  as  Maggie  proposed, 
they  saw  a  miserable-looking  face  peeping  in 
at  the  glass  door.  It  was  that  of  a  boy  about 
eight  years  old,  poor,  and  in  rags,  his  features 
all  pinched  with  cold  and  hunger.  He  was 
gazing  wistfully  at  the  pretty  things  and  the 
comfortably-dressed  people  who  were  within, 
and  perhaps  wishing  that  Christmas  brought 
such  happiness  to  him.  As  one  after  another 
passed  in  and  out,  he  held  up  his  thin  hand 
and  asked  for  help,  but  few  heeded  him. 

''  See  that  poor  boy,"  said  Bessie  ;  ''  I  don't 
believe  he  has  any  money  to  buy  Christmas 
presents." 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  I  guess  he 


Shop.pmg  for   Christmas*  339 

has  not  enough  to  buy  bread  and  fire ;  he 
looks  so  cold  and  thin,  and  what  dreadful  old 
clothes  he  has  !  " 

"  Poor  fellow  ! "  said  Bessie,  in  a  pitying 
voice.  "  I  s'pose  he  would  like  some  money 
very  much.  Do  you  think  we  could  spare 
him  a  little  of  ours,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  If  we  do,  we  can't  spend  so  much  for  our 
presents,"  answered  Maggie,  pulling  out  her 
portmonnaie  from  her  muff  and  looking 
doubtfully  at  it. 

"  Do  you  think  papa  and  mamma  would 
mind  it,  Maggie,  if  we  each  gave  the  boy  five^ 
cents,  and  did  not  spend  quite  twenty  for 
them  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  take  it  off  papa's  and 
mamma's  presents,"  said  Maggie.  "  They  are 
so  very  good  to  us,  I  want  to  give  them  all  we 
can  ;  but,  Bessie,  I'll  tell  you.  You  know  I 
was  going  to  spend  ten  cents  for  you,  and  you 


340  Bessie  in  the   Czty, 

ten  cents  for  me.  Now  we  might  only  spend 
five  cents  for  each  other,  and  then  we  can 
each  give  five  to  the  boy.  I  don't  mind,  if 
you  don't,  Bessie." 

"  No,  Maggie,  I'd  yather  give  it  to  him,  and 
then  maybe  he'll  look  a  little  glad." 

So  each  taking  five  cents  from  her  pocket- 
book,  tliey  ran  to  the  door  and  put  the  money 
into  the  poor  boy's  hand,  who  did  indeed  look 
"  a  little  glad  "  as  he  received  it. 

When  they  came  back  to  the  table,  the  pic- 
ture of  the  dog  stood  just  in  front,  where  not 
only  Maggie  but  Bessie,  also,  could  see  it  quite 
plainly. 

"  I  hope  nobody  will  think  we  meddled  with 
that  picture,"  said  Bessie. 

"  No  one  shall  think  so,"  said  the  gentle- 
man, who  had  been  sitting  near,  as  he  rose  and 
threw  down  his  paper.     "  I  moved  it  myself." 

"  Then,   if  you   please,   sir,"   said   Bessie, 


Shof^ing  for   Christmas.  341 

"  will  you  tell  the  store  people  you  did  it  ?  I 
s'pose  they  wouldn't  think  you  were  naughty, 
'cause  you're  big ;  but  we  are  forbidden  to 
touch,  and  we  were  trusted." 

"  And  I  see  you  are  fit  to  be  trusted,"  said 
the  gentleman,  smiling ;  "  and  I  have  a  right  to 
touch  what  I  please  here,  for  the  store  and  all 
the  things  in  it  belong  to  me.  Is  there  nothing 
upon  the  table  which  you  would  like  to  buy  ?  '* 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Bessie,  while  Maggie  was 
hanging  her  head  in  a  terrible  fit  of  shyness 
at  being  talked  to  by  this  stranger,  "  if  we 
could  afford  it ;  but  we  think  all  these  things 
cost  too  much.  We  have  not  a  very  great 
deal  of  money." 

"  Let  me  hear  what  you  would  like  to  have, 
and  I  can  tell  you  the  price,"  said  the  gentle- 
man. 

''  How  much  is  that  paper-weight  ?  "  asked 
Bessie. 


342  Bessie  in  the  City, 

"  Fifteen  cents." 

Bessie's  eyes  sparkled,  and  Maggie  lookea 
up  in  great  surprise. 

''  And  this  cross,  sir,  how  much  is  that  ?  " 
said  Bessie. 

"  That,  also,  is  fifteen  cents." 

"  Then  we'll  take  them  both  for  papa  and 
mamma.  I  think  you  are  a  very  cheap  gen- 
tleman, sir.  We  thought  they  would  be  too 
'spensive  for  us  to  buy,"  said  the  little  girl. 
"  Mamma  will  be  very  pleased  with  this  lovely 
picture." 

''  I  hope  so,"  said  the  gentleman.  "  Such 
a  good  mamma  as  you  have  deserves  to  have 
a  present  that  will  please  her." 

"  Do  you  know  my  mamma,  sir  ?  "  asked 
Bessie,  as  she  handed  him  the  price  of  her 
picture. 

"  No,  but  I  am  sure  your  mamma  is  a  lady 
and  a  good  woman,  although  I  do  not  knoTV 


Shoffing  for   Ch?'zstmas.  3.J.3 

her,  and  I  am  sure,  also,  that  she  has  taught 
you  well,  and  that  you  have  paid  heed  to  her 
lessons." 

Bessie  was  herself  quite  certain  of  all  this, 
but  she  wondered  how  the  gentleman  could 
know  it  when  he  was  a  stranger  to  her  mother. 
Perhaps  you  and  I  may  be  able  to  guess. 

"  And  papa  deserves  a  nice  present,  too," 
she  said ;  "  he  is  an  excellent  gentleman." 

*'  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  her  new 
friend.  "  And  now  I  suppose  you  would  like 
to  have  your  purchases  wrapped  up,  so  that 
your  papa  and  mamma  may  not  see  them  be- 
fore the  proper  time." 

"  We  would  like  to  show  them  to  our  aunt 
first,"  said  Bessie ;  and  she  and  Maggie  scam- 
pered off  with  their  treasures. 

But  when  Aunt  Helen  saw  them,  she  said 
there  must  be  some  mistake.  "  Those  things 
are  worth  much  more  than  you  have  paid  for 


344  Bessie  in  the  City. 

them,  my  darlings,  you  have  misunderstood  ; 
or  some  one  has  been  joking  with  you." 

"  Indeed,  indeed.  Aunt  Helen,  we  did  not 
make  a  mistake,  and  the  gentleman  was  quite 
sober,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Who  sold  them  to  you  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Duncan. 

Bessie  pointed  out  the  person,  and  Mrs. 
Duncan  went  to  speak  to  him.  Her  little  nieces 
looked  after  her  with  anxious  eyes,  fearing 
lest  they  might  have  made  some  mistake,  and 
that  their  new  treasures  would  be  taken  from 
them,  and  Bessie  ran  up  just  in  time  to  hear 
the  gentleman  say,  with  a  laugh,  "  Surely,  I 
may  put  what  price  I  please  upon  the  articles 
I  have  for  sale." 

Mrs.  Duncan  laughed,  too,  and  said,  "  Yes, 
certainly,  but  —  " 

"  I  assure  you,  I  have  been  amply  paid, 
madam,"    said   the   gentleman,   "  and   I   beg 


Shoffing  for   Christmas.  345 

you  will  consider  the  matter  settled.  It  is 
all  right,  little  one,"  laying  his  hand  on  Bes- 
sie's head  as  she  looked  up  at  him  ;  "  you 
have  made  no  mistake ; "  and  then  taking  the 
paper-weight  and  picture,  he  wrapped  them  in 
paper  and  returned  them  to  the  children. 

From  this  store  they  went  to  another, 
where  they  were  a  long  time  choosing  the 
ribbon  for  their  book-marks,  while  Aunt 
Helen  and  Annie  waited  with  wonderful 
patience  till  they  had  decided  this  important 
question.  Here,  also,  a  pincushion  was  bought 
for  nurse,  and  an  emery-bag  for  Jane.  Then 
Maggie,  coming  back  from  a  show-case,  about 
which  she  had  been  spying,  begged  Aunt 
Annie  to  go  to  the  other  end  of  the  store, 
and  on  no  account  to  turn  her  head.  Aunt 
Helen  was  taken  to  the  case,  and  a  box 
was  pointed  out  which  Maggie  thought 
would   be  the  very  thing   for   a   ribbon-box. 


34^  Bessie  in  the   City, 

*'  But  you  cannot  buy  that,  dear,"  said 
Mrs.  Duncan  ;  "  it  is  too  expensive." 

"  Oh,  no,  Aunt  Helen  !  it  is  marked  five 
cents,  —  just  see,"  said  Maggie. 

"My  poor  pet,  that  is  five  dollars,  not 
five  cents." 

This  was  a  great  disappointment,  for  Mag- 
gie had  quite  set  her  heart  on  the  box ;  but, 
of  course,  she  and  Bessie  could  not  give  five 
dollars,  since  they  had  not  the  half  of  that 
to  spend. 

"  It's  real  mean,"  she  said,  angrily,  ''  to 
go  and  cheat  children  so,  and  make  them 
think  it's  five  cents  when  it's  five  dollars." 

"Do  not  speak  so,  dear,"  said  her  aunt; 
*' '  cheat '  is  not  a  pretty  word  for  you  to  use, 
and  those  numbers  mean  five  dollars  very 
plainly  to  any  one  who  can  read  them.  Ask 
papa  to  teach  you  about  that  to-night." 

''  Let's  go  back  and  buy  all  our  presents  of 


Shoffing  for  Christmas.  347 

that  gentleman,"  said  Maggie.  "■  He  knows 
how  to  keep  store  a  great  deal  better  than 
these  people." 

"  Better  for  your  purses  than  for  his  own,  1 
think,"  said  Mrs.  Duncan,  laughing.  "  No, 
dear,  we  have  bought  enough  there  for  this 
time.  We  will  find  something  else  for  Aunt 
Annie." 

"  Maggie,  Maggie,"  called  Bessie,  "  come 
and  look  at  the  cunningest  glass  animals  you 
ever  saw  in  your  life." 

Maggie's  displeasure  was  quite  forgotten  as 
she  saw  the  pretty  toys,  and  as  she  and  Bes- 
sie were  looking  at  tl:^em.  Aunt  Annie  joined 
them. 

"  What  a  beautiful  glass  cat !  "  she  said.  "  I 
wish  Santa  Claus  would  have  one  like  it  on 
the  Christmas-tree  for  me.  I  should  put  it  on 
my  what-not,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  a  mouse 
would  dare  to  show  so  much  as  the  tip  of  his 


348  Bessie  in  the  City. 

tail  in  my  room,  if  I  bad  this  pussy  to  guard 
me." 

*' Oh,  Aunt  Annie,"  said  Maggie;  "just  as 
if  a  mouse  would  be  afraid  of  such  a  mite  of 
a  glass  kitty  !  He  would  know  it  could  not 
burt  him." 

"  Well,"  said  Annie,  "  if  you  see  Santa 
Claus,  just  tell  him  I  would  like  to  have  it." 

Maggie  turned  and  looked  at  Bessie  with  a 
shake  of  her  bead,  and  eyes  which  very  plainly 
asked  the  question.  "  Shall  we  buy  it  for 
her  ?  "  and  Bessie  answered  with  a  nod  which 
said  quite  as  plainly,  "  By  all  means." 

So  they  begged  Aunt  Annie  to  walk  away 
once  more,  a  request  which  she  had  quite  ex- 
pected, and  she  went  off  laughing.  Bessie 
asked  the  price  of  the  cat,  and  was  told,  "  six 
cents,"  so  there  was  no  difficulty  about  that, 
and  pussy  was  bought.  Then,  after  some 
whispering,  Mrs.  Duncan  was  sent  after  An- 


Sh  of  ping  fo  r   Chris  tnias.  3  49 

nie,  and  a  glass  deer  was  bought  for  her 
etagere.  The  woman  who  served  the  children 
brought  a  small  box,  and  putting  some  cotton 
in  it,  laid  the  deer  and  the  cat  upon  it,  and 
gave  the  box  into  Maggie's  hand,  saying  that 
she  could  carry  them  safely  in  this  way.  Mag- 
gie told  Bessie  that  the  woman  knew  how  to 
keep  store  pretty  well,  after  all. 

One  or  two  more  small  purchases  were 
made,  and  then  they  went  home.  They  went 
shopping  several  times  with  mamma  or  their 
aunts  before  all  their  presents  were  bought  ; 
but  two  days  before  Christmas  everything  was 
ready,  —  the  book-marks  with,  "To  my  dear 
Father,"  and  "  To  my  dear  Mother,"  as  well 
as  those  for  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush,  a  watch- 
man's rattle  for  noisy  Fred,  and  for  Harry, 
since  he  was  fond  of  birds,  a  yellow  wooden 
canary  in  a  pewter  cage.  It  would  take  too 
long  to  name  each  article,  and  the  person  for 


350  Bessie  in  the   City, 

whom  it  was  intended ;  but  not  one  of  tho 
family,  or  of  their  intimate  friends,  was  for- 
gotten. Papa  and  mamma,  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, aunts,  uncle,  and  cousins,  grandmamma 
and  the  two  grandpapas,  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Rush,  Jemmy  and  Mary  Bent,  and  even  each 
servant  in  the  house  were  remembered  and 
provided  for  ;  and  the  older  people  were  quite 
astonished  to  see  how  much  the  children  had 
done  with  the  two  dollars  and  sixty  cents 
with  which  they  had  started. 

And  now  began  the  grand  preparations  for 
the  important  day.  The  Christmas-tree  in  its 
square  green  box  came  home,  and  was  carried 
into  the  library,  where  the  children  were  now 
forbidden  to  go.  The  "  grown-upers,"  as 
Fred  called  them,  were  passing  in  and  out 
all  tlie  time,  going  in  laden  with  parcels  of 
all  shapes  and  sizes,  and  coming  out  empty- 
handed.     But   if  the   older   people  had  their 


Shopping  for   Christmas,  351 

secrets,  the  children,  also,  had  theirs,  not  the 
least  of  which  was  one  in  which  the  four  eldest 
were  engaged,  and  which  was  carried  on  for  a 
while  in  the  boys'  room. 

The  tree  was  not  to  be  displayed  until  the 
evening  of  Christmas-day,  when  there  was  to 
be  a  large  family  dinner  at  Mrs.  Bradford's,  to 
which  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush  were  invited. 


XVII. 


CHRISTMAS. 


HO  is  going  to  hang  up  a  stocking  to- 
night ?  "  asked  Fred,  as  the  children 
watched  their  father  and  uncle  while  they 
dressed  the  room  with  greens  on  Christmas -eve. 

'"I  shall,"  said  Harry. 

"  And  I,"  said  Maggie. 

"  I  don't  know  about  it,"  said  Bessie ; 
"  maybe  Santa  Glaus  will  think  we  are  greedy, 
if  we  hang  up  our  stockings  when  we  are  go- 
ing to  have  a  Christmas-tree." 

"  No,  pet,"  said  Harry ;  '*  he's  a  generous 
old  fellow,  and,  besides,  he'll  know  that  we 
don't  expect  much  in  our  stockings.  We'll 
leave  a  little  note,  telling  him  we  only  do  it 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing." 


Christmas.  353 


"  He'll  scorch  his  old  legs  coming  down  the 
chimney  to-night,"  laughed  Fred  ;  *'  there's  a 
roaring  big  fire  in  mamma's  grate." 

"  Oh,  he's  used  to  it,"  said  Harry  ;  "  ho 
minds  neither  heat  nor  cold." 

"  Maggie,"  said  Fred,  "•  if  you  hear  a  scram- 
bling and  pawing  in  mamma's  chimney  to- 
night, you  can  jump  up  and  take  a  look  at 
him  through  the  crack  of  the  door." 

"  We  wouldn't  be  so  mean,"  answered  Mag- 
gie. "  If  he  meant  us  to  see  him,  he  would 
come  in  the  day-time  when  we  are  up ;  and  if 
he  knew  we  did  it,  perhaps  he'd  just  go  whisk- 
ing up  the  chimney,  and  not  leave  us  a  single 
thing." 

"  Hurrah  for  honest  Maggie !  "  said  Fred. 
"  I  hope  Santa  Clans  is  around  somewhere, 
and  heard  you  say  that.  He'll  give  you  a  re- 
ward for  it." 


354  Bessie  in  the  City, 

''  Children,"  said  Bessie,  "  you  talk  as  if 
Santa  Claus  yeally  was." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  he  really  is  not!" 
said  Fred.  ''  Now,  if  he  has  heard  you,  Bess, 
he'll  be  affronted,  and  punish  you,  as  he  will 
reward  Midget." 

'-'- 1  know  who  Santa  Claus  is,"  said  Bessie, 
gravely,  ''  and  I  wonder  if  it's  yight  to  talk  so 
earnest  about  him." 

"  Mamma  said  it  was  not  wrong,"  said  Mag- 
gie, "  'cause  every  one  knew  it  was  only  a  joke, 
and  no  one  meant  to  deceive  ;  but  it's  fun  to 
think  about  him  and  talk  about  him,  so  I  am 
going  to  do  it." 

"  I  wonder  how  this  notion  of  Santa  Claus 
ever  came  about  ?  "  said  Harry.  "  Let  us  ask 
papa." 

But  Mr.  Bradford  was  too  busy  just  then  to 
attend  to  them,  and  said  he  would  tell  them 
at  another  time. 


C/irist?nas.  355 

When  Maggie  and  Bessie  went  up-stairs, 
tlieir  brothers  went  with  them  to  assist  in 
hanging  up  the  stockings,  and  when  nurse 
found  what  they  were  doing,  she  came  too, 
bringing  Franky's  stocking  and  a  tiny  wors- 
ted sock. 

"  Holloa,"  said  Fred,  "  you  are  not  going 
to  hang  up  that  apology  for  a  stocking, 
nursey  ?  Why,  Santa  Clans  will  never  see  it ! 
and  if  he  did,  he'll  have  nothing  small  enough 
in  his  pack  to  put  in  it." 

"  I'll  trust  to  his  forgetting  my  pet,"  said 
the  old  woman.  "  If  he  overlooks  any  one,  it 
will  be  the  one  of  the  family  that's  always  in 
miscliief  and  up  to  some  saucy  prank  ;  and 
maybe  he'll  just  put  a  rod  in  tliat  one's  stock- 
ing." 

"  Poor  mammy ! "  said  Fred,  "  do  you 
really  think  Santa  Claus  will  serve  you  such 
a  shabby  trick  as  that,  and  not  bring  you  a 


356  Bessie  in  the  City, 

single  thing  ?  If  he  does,  I'll  save  all  my 
pocket-money  for  a  month,  and  buy  you  some- 
thing nice." 

Nursey  shook  her  head  at  the  roguish  fel- 
low, whom  she  dearly  loved  in  spite  of  all  his 
mischief  and  teasing,  and  having  fastened  up 
the  little  sock,  she  carried  Maggie  and  Bessie 
away  to  undress  them. 

If  the  little  girls  had  been  awake  an  hour 
later,  when  their  brothers  stopped  in  mamma's 
room  on  their  way  up  to  bed,  they  might  have 
said  that  Santa  Glaus  had  a  great  deal  of 
laughing  and  whispering  to  do  ;  but  they  were 
sound  asleep,  and  heard  nothing  till  the  next 
morning,  when  nurse,  according  to  promise, 
came  to  wake  them  at  an  earlier  hour  than 
usual ;  for  nurse  and  Patrick  had  been  taken 
into  the  secret,  and  the  latter  had  promised 
not  to  ring  the  rising-bell  for  this  morning,  but 
to  let  the  children  wake  their  parents  in  their 


Christmas.  357 

own  way.  Harry  had  procured  half  a  dozen 
bells  of  different  tones,  and  had  taught  his 
brother  and  sisters  to  ring  them  in  tune,  pro- 
ducing what  they  called  "  Christmas  Chimes." 
I  cannot  say  that  they  sounded  much  like 
chimes,  or  that  the  tune  was  very  easily  dis- 
tinguished ;  but  since  the  children  were  satis- 
fied with  their  own  performance,  it  answered 
all  the  purpose.  And  certainly  had  not  papa 
and  mamma  been  already  awake,  they  could 
not  have  slept  one  moment  after  all  this  din 
was  raised  at  their  door.  Mr.  Bradford,  how- 
ever, was  up  and  nearly  dressed,  for  Miss 
Baby  had  chosen  to  wake  at  an  early  hour, 
and  looking  around  for  something  with  which 
to  amuse  herself,  had  discovered  two  new 
playthings  in  her  father's  nose  and  hair. 
These  she  chose  to  consider  her  own  proper 
Christmas  .gifts,  and  liad  ever  since  been  mak- 
ing good  use  of  them.     Papa  tired  of  the  fun 


3 $8  Bessie  in  the   City, 

sooner  than  she  did,  and  had  been  forced  to 
take  the  new  toys  beyond  the  reach  of  the  lit- 
tle hands.  Both  he  and  mamma  laughed 
heartily  at  their  Christmas  greeting ;  but  soon 
came  sweeter  sounds,  for  when  the  chimes 
were  over,  the  four  clear  young  voices  rose  in 
the  beautiful  hymn  :  — 

"  Hark,  the  herald  angels  sing 
Glory  to  the  new-born  Iving.*' 

No  music  ever  sounded  more  delightful  in 
the  ears  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford,  and  when 
the  hymn  was  finished,  papa  waited  to  be  sure 
that  no  more  was  to  follow.  But  now  came 
shouts  of  "  Merry  Christmas  ! "  and  as  he 
opened  the  door,  the  whole  happy,  laughing 
flock  rushed  in,  with  Flossy  barking  joyously 
at  their  heels. 

"  Now  for  the  stockings  !  "  said  Fred,  when 
all  loving  wishes  had  been  exchanged.  "  One 
at  a  time.     You  begin,  Hal." 


Christmas,  359 

There  hung  the  stockings  all  in  a  row  as 
they  had  been  left  last  night ;  but  now  they 
were  full  instead  of  empty,  and  to  the  toj)  of 
each  was  pinned  a  piece  of  paper  with  some 
words  written  in  a  large,  sprawling  hand. 

Now  Harry,  though  he  was  by  no  means  a 
miserly  boy,  had  a  fancy  for  saving  all  sorts  of 
stray  odds  and  ends,  saying  that  they  might 
be  of  use  some  day.  This  habit  of  his  gave  a 
great  deal  of  amusement  to  Fred,  and  now  he 
seemed  much  delighted  when  on  Harry's  pa- 
per were  found  the  words,  "  For  Master  Save- 
all."  At  the  top  of  the  stocking  was  a  packet 
of  sugar-plums,  below  an  old  battered  tin  cup, 
some  broken  pieces  of  china,  part  of  a  knife- 
blade,  and  some  scraps  of  paper.  Harry 
rolled  the  paper  into  a  ball  and  tnrew  it  at 
Fred's  head. 

"  Now  for  number  two,"  said  the  mischiev- 
ous  fellow,   unpinning    the   paper   from    his 


360  Bessie  m  the   City, 

stocking,  which  did  not  look  as  full  as  Har- 
ry's. "  '  The  pattern  boy  of  tho  house  '  — 
tliat's  myself,  of  course,  —  '  needs  nothing  but 
the  reward  of  his  own  conscience,  and  the 
goodies  whose  sweetness  is  only  equalled  by 
his  disposition.'  Good  for  Santa  Glaus  !  He's 
a  gentleman  of  sense." 

"  There's  someVhing  else  there,"  said  Mag- 
gie. 

Fred  looked  rather  surprised,  but  plunging 
his  hand  down  to  the  bottom  of  his  stocking, 
pulled  out  a  small  square  box.  Opening  it, 
he  found  two  little  parcels,  one  containing 
mustard,  the  other  pepper,  with  the  labels, 
"  Like  to  like."  He  colored  furiously,  but 
laughed  good-naturedly,  saying,  "  All  fair ; 
give  and  take." 

On  Maggie's  paper  was  written,  "  For  tho 
girl  who  would  not  peep."  And  besides  su- 
gar-plums, the  stocking  held  a  tiny  log-cabin. 


Christmas.  361 

a  puzzlo  of  Harry's  which  she  had  long  wished 
to  have,  and  two  or  three  other  small  toys. 
Bessie's  and  Franky's  held  pretty  much  the 
same,  except  that  in  Bessie's,  instead  of  the 
bg-cabin,  was  a  tiny  doll  dressed  as  a  police- 
man ;  for  since  her  adventure  she  had  been 
very  fond  of  talking  of  her  friends,  the  police 
men.  and  her  stocking  was  ticketed,  "  For  the 
girl  who  will  not  believe  that  Santa  Claus 
really  is." 

But  now  nurse,  coming  in  after  her  baby, 
looked  first  at  her  little  sock,  and  to  her  great 
disgust,  found  nothing  but  a  bundle  of  twigs 
tied  on  the  outside. 

"  The  old  rascal !  "  she  said  ;  "  does  he  mean 
to  say  my  baby  wants  a  whipping  ?  The  best 
babj  that  ever  lived  !  I'll  just  lay  this  rod 
over  his  own  shoulders." 

"  You'll  have  to  catch  him  first,"  said  Fred, 


362  Bessie  m  the  City, 

"  and  you  wont  ha^e  a  chance  till  next  Christ- 
mas-cvc." 

"  Wont  I  though  ? "  said  nurse,  and  she 
made  a  grasp  at  the  laughing  boy,  who  dived, 
and  the  next  instant  was  off  with  nurse  after 
him.  But  nurse  was  old  and  fat,  Fred,  young 
and  active,  and  he  vaulted  over  balusters,  and 
took  flying  leaps  down-stairs  in  a  way  which 
quite  terrified  her  ;  so  that  she  begged  him 
to  "  stop  and  not  risk  his  neck  on  this  blessed 
Christmas  morn." 

"  As  well  risk  my  neck  as  my  shoulders," 
said  Fred.  "  Will  you  promise  not  to  visit  the 
sins  of  Santa  Claus  on  me  if  I  consent  not  to 
kill  myself?" 

Nurse  promised,  and  went  back  for  her  baby, 
whom  she  carried  off  to  the  nursery,  covering 
it  with  kisses,  and  talking  to  it  as  though  she 
thought  it  very  badly  treated. 

"  It's  rather  droll,  is  it  not,  that  Santa  Claus* 


Christmas,  363 

handwriting  should  bo  so  much  like  that  of 
our  Fred  ?  "  said  Mr.  Bradford. 

''Not  at  all,  sir,  for  ho  took  lessons  of  me 
■when  he  was  young,"  answered  the  rogue,  with 
a  comical  look  at  his  father. 

"  Papa,"  said  Harry,  at  the  breakfast-table, 
"  can  you  tell  us  now  about  Santa  Claus  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  I  know,  but  that  is  not 
much,"  said  his  father.  ''  Santa  Claus  is 
Dutch  or  German  for  St.  Nicholas.  Many 
hundred  years  ago,  there  lived  far  away  in  the 
East  a  good  old  bishop,  named  Nicholas,  who 
gave  up  his  life  to  acts  of  charity  and  mercy. 
He  was  said  to  have  a  great  love  for  children, 
and  many  stories  are  told  of  his  kindness  to 
them ;  hence,  he  came  to  be  regarded  as  their 
special  friend.  After  his  death,  the  Romish 
Church,  to  which  he  belonged,  made  him  a 
saint ;  and  as  his  feast  day,  or  the  day  which 
particularly  belonged  to  him,  happened  to  be 


364  Bessre  m  the   City, 

near  Christmas,  lie  was  supposed  to   take   a 
great  share  in  the  rejoicings  of  that  day." 

"But  why  is  ho    said   to   come    down    the 
chimney  and  fill  stockings  ?  "  asked  Fred. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  "  and 
though  I  have  questioned  several  people  who 
know  a  great  deal  about  old  customs,  I  have 
never  been  able  to  find  out  how  this  idea  arose. 
In  some  parts  of  Europe,  he  is  supposed  to  be 
a  child  angel,  not  an  old  man ;  and  in  France 
the  children  call  him  Noel,  and  put  their  shoes 
on  the  hearth  to  be  filled.  Perhaps  the  cus- 
tom of  giving  presents  at  this  time  arose 
from  the  gifts  which  the  wise  men  of  the  East 
brought  to  the  infant  Saviour  ;  perhaps  it  was 
only  intended  to  remind  us  of  the  greatest  and 
most  precious  of  all  gifts  which  vje  received  on 
this  day.  My  Bessie  can  tell  what  that  was  ; 
can  she  not  ?  " 
"  God's  JesuSj  who  came  to  save  us,  so  his 


Christmas.  365 

Father  could  take  us  to  heaven,"  said  the  little 
girl. 

"  Right,  my  darling ;  and  can  Maggie  tell 
what  was  the  song  the  angels  sang  on  this 
happy  morning  ?  " 

''  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good  will  toward  men,"  said  Maggie. 

"  And  every  Christmas-day  since  the  song 
has  been  repeated  by  men  and  angels.  Is  it 
not  a  pleasant  thought  that  all  over  the  world, 
in  every  land  where  Christ  is  known,  millions 
of  happy  voices  ring  forth  the  glad  tidings, 
'  For  unto  us  is  born  this  day  a  Saviour,  who 
is  Christ  the  Lord  ; '  that  millions  of  young 
children  are  singing  praises  to  him  who  be- 
came a  little  child  that  he  might  bring  to  us 
the  one  priceless  gift  without  which  all  others 
are  worthless  ?  For  from  this  flows  every 
good  thing;  without  the  peace,  comfort,  and 
safety  which  this  has  brought,  there  would  be 


266  Bessie  in  the  City, 

nothing  but  misery  and  unliappiness,  oven  for 
those  wlio  do  not  love  and  bless  the  holy  child 
Jesus,  or  trust  to  his  salvation.  Every  prayer 
which  we  offer,  not  only  on  this  day  but  on  all 
days  of  the  year,  finds  its  way  to  the  Father's 
ear  only  through  his  name  ;  every  joy  is  made 
brighter,  every  sorrow  lighter,  by  the  thought 
of  the  one  great  blessing  the  birthday  of  our 
Saviour  brought." 

And  now  there  were  down-stairs  several 
poor  people  to  be  attended  to  before  church- 
time  ;  for  on  this  day,  of  all  others,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Bradford  would  not  forget  those  who  had 
not  as  many  good  gifts  as  themselves.  There 
was  Mary  Bent,  who  had  risen  long  before 
daylight  that  she  might  be  in  the  city  at  an 
early  hour.  Very  cold  and  tired  she  looked, 
but  she  clieerfully  answered  the  children's 
"  Merry  Christmas  ;  "  and  when  she  had  eaten 
the  good  breakfast  Mrs.  Bradford  ordered  for 


Christmas.  367 

her,  the  color  came  into  her  pale  cheeks,  and 
she  quite  agreed  with  Maggie  and  Eessie  that 
this  was  the  happiest  day  in  all  the  year. 

"  Mrs.  Duncan  ordered  our  Christmas  din- 
ner sent  from  Riverside,  ma'am,"  she  said, 
courtesying  to  Mrs.  Bradford ;  "  and  old  Mr. 
Duncan  sent  a  puzzle  to  Jemmy ;  so  there's 
nothing  more  to  be  wished  for." 

"  Still,"  said  the  lady,  '^  I  suppose  you  will 
not  refuse  the  present  which  the  children  have 
for  you." 

No  fear  of  that,  as  the  sparkle  of  Mary's 
eyes  showed  when  Maggie  and  Bessie  came 
with  the  warm  sack  which  they  had  bought 
for  her.  It  was  tried  on  at  once,  and  found  to 
fit  pretty  well,  leaving,  it  is  true,  some  room 
for  Mary  to  grow,  but  that  was  a  fault  on  the 
right  side.  Mrs.  Bradford  gave  her  a  hood 
for  herself,  and  a  book  for  Jemmy,  with  a  par- 
cel of  cakes  and  candies,  and  some  tea  and 


368  -  Bessie  in  the   City, 

sugar  for  her  mother,  and  the  little  radish-girl 
went  home  with  a  light,  happy  heart. 

There  was  an  old  negro  man  nearly  a  hun- 
dred years  of  age,  but  who  still  managed  to 
hobble  about  with  a  stick  and  pay  a  Christmas 
visit  to  his  kind  friends,  and  who,  when  Mrs. 
Bradford  gave  him  money  and  a  hat,  said, 
"  Dear  honey,  I  didn't  spect  nothin' ;  I  jest 
came  for  a  sight  of  your  pooty  face."  But, 
nevertheless,  old  Jack  would  have  been  sadly 
disappointed  to  go  away  empty-handed ;  in- 
deed, I  think  it  quite  doubtful  if  he  would 
have  gone  away  at  all  until  he  had  received 
something. 

There  were  several  others  to  be  made 
happy,  but  it  would  take  too  long  to  tell  who 
they  all  were.  Every  one,  however,  went 
from  Mr.  Bradford's  door  blessing  the  kind 
hearts  who  could  not  be  content  unless  they 
ahared  with  others  the  many  good  gifts  God 


Christmas,  369 

had  bestowed  upon  them.  Then  to  church 
to  praise  the  Lord  for  all  the  mercies  of  the 
day;  after  which,  Maggie  and  Bessie  were 
taken  to  a  large  room,  where  the  children  of 
the  Church  Mission  School  were  to  have  a 
Christmas  dinner.  Roast  beef  and  turkey, 
with  other  good  things,  had  been  furnished  for 
the  little  ones,  many  of  whom,  perhaps,  never 
had  a  comfortable  meal  save  on  this  day  of 
the  year. 

Mrs.  Bradford  brought  her  children  away 
before  the  dinner  was  quite  over,  for  she 
feared  Bessie  would  be  too  tired,  and  when 
they  reached  home,  told  her  she  must  take  a 
little  rest.  Bessie  thought  it  a  pity  to  lose  a 
moment  of  Christmas-day  in  sleep ;  but,  like 
the  obedient  child  she  was,  lay  down  on  mam- 
ma's sofa.  But  after  lying  quite  still  for 
about  ten  minutes  with  her  eyes  closed,  she 
said,  "  Mamma,  I  have  kept  my  eyes  tight 
24 


370  Bessie  in  the   City 

shut  for  a  great  many  hours,  and  the  sleep 
will  not  come." 

Her  mother  laughed,  and  said  she  might 
get  np,  since  the  time  seemed  so  long,  and 
sent  her  to  the  nursery  to  be  dressed  for  din- 
ner. 

And  now  came  grandmamma  and  Aunt  An- 
nie, Grandpapa  Duncan,  Aunt  Helen,  and  Un- 
cle John  with  Baby  Nellie,  and  afterwards, 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush.  What  a  long  dinner- 
table  that  was,  and  what  a  circle  of  bright, 
happy  faces  about  it !  Maggie  and  Bessie,  and 
perhaps  Fred  and  Harry,  too,  had  thouglit  it 
rather  foolish  to  think  of  dinner  when  there 
was  the  Christmas-tree  waiting  in  the  library; 
but,  somehow,  they  all  contrived  to  enjoy  the 
merry  meal  very  much.  Fred  declared  liQ 
wished  his  father  kept  a  hotel,  it  was  so  joll; 
to  sit  down  to  dinner  with  such  a  lot  of  pec 
pie. 


Christmas,  37 1 

Soon  came  Tom,  Lily,  and  Eddy  Norris, 
with  Gracie  Howard,  to  share  in  the  grand 
event  of  the  day.  Papa  and  Uncle  John  dis- 
appeared for  a  few  moments,  then  the  ser- 
vants were  called,  the  library-door  thrown 
open,  and  there  stood  the  Christmas-tree  in 
all  its  splendor.  On  the  topmost  bough  was  a 
figure  of  old  Santa  Glaus,  with  his  pack  upon 
his  back  ;  around  him  burned  a  row  of  wax 
tapers,  and  on  every  little  twig  hung  flags, 
spangles,  bright-colored  balls,  and  bonbons  ; 
while  the  larger  and  stouter  branches  and 
the  green  tub  were  covered  with  the  heavier 
gifts.  Such  shouts  of  delight  as  came  from 
the  little  ones !  Baby,  in  mamma's  arms, 
seemed  to  think  the  whole  show  was  for  her 
amusement,  and  crowed  and  laughed  and 
stretched  out  her  dimpled  hands  towards  the 
pretty  things,  which  she  would  soon  have  de- 
stroyed, had  she  been  allowed  to  grasp  them. 


372  Bessie  in  the  City. 

When  the  tree  had  been  sufficiently  admired, 
Mr.  Bradford  stepped  forward,  and,  taking 
down  one  after  another  of  the  gifts,  handed 
them  to  the  persons  for  whom  they  were  in- 
tended. One  of  the  first  things  was  a  sweet 
picture  in  a  black  walnut  frame,  which  he 
gave  to  mamma.  Great  was  her  delight  when 
she  saw  the  faces  of  her  two  little  daughters, 
so  prettily  painted  by  her  sister. 

"  Now  may  we  see,  Aunt  Helen  ? "  said 
Maggie,  and  receiving  permission,  she  and 
Bessie  ran  eagerly  forward.  "  Oh,  how  sweet 
Bessie  and  Flossy  look !  And  there's  another 
pretty  little  girl  standing  by  —  Why,  that's 
me ! " 

Every  one  laughed,  but  Maggie  was  so 
pleased  she  did  not  think  about  that,  but 
thanked  Aunt  Helen  for  putting  her  in  the 
picture.     Bessie   was    even    more    surprised. 


Christmas.  373 

and  could  not  understand  how  her  aunt  could 
paint  a  picture  without  her  knowing  it. 

Now  papa  called  Maggie,  for  there  was  a 
beautiful  little  bed  for  her  doll;  and  next 
came  one  for  Bessie.  Never  was  there  a  tree 
that  bore  such  various  and  delightful  fruit,  — 
fruit  suited  to  large  and  small,  from  Grand- 
papa Duncan  down  to  the  dear  baby ;  and 
never  were  richer  or  happier  children  than 
our  Maggie  and  Bessie.  There  seemed  to  be 
presents  from  every  one  to  every  one,  and 
happy  voices  and  merry  laughter  filled  the 
room.  The  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush  were  very 
much  pleased  with  the  book-marks,  "  I  love 
you.  Sir,"  and  "  Remember  me.  Ma'am  ;  " 
that  is,  if  smiles  and  kisses  were  to  be  taken  as 
signs,  and  promised  to  keep  them  as  long  as 
they  lived. 

Nor  weie  papa  and  mamma  less  delighted 
with    the   paper-weight   and  picture   and  the 


374  Bessie  in  the  City, 

markers  worked  with  "  To  my  dear  father," 
and  "  To  my  dear  mother."  Mamma  did  not 
in  the  least  care  that  Maggie,  trying  to  do  hers 
by  herself,  had  put  the  o  and  the  m,  quite 
close  together,  making  it  read  '''  Tomy  dear 
mother,"  a  mistake  which  mischievous  Aunt 
Annie,  enjoying  the  joke,  had  not  corrected. 
Of  all  the  gifts  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
received  that  evening,  none  pleased  them 
more  than  those  which  the  fingers  of  their 
own  little  daughters  had  manufactured. 

As  for  nurse,  she  scarcely  had  eyes  or 
thoughts  for  her  own  presents,  so  occupied 
was  she  with  the  treasures  which  showed  that 
the  youngest  darling  of  the  flock  had  not  been 
forgotten. 

"  Well,  mammy,"  said  Fred,  shaking  in  the 
old  woman's  ears  the  silver  and  coral  rattle 
which  had  been  grandmamma's  gift  to  baby, 


Christmas,  375 

"will  you  forgivG  the  trick  which  Santa  CJaus 
Bervcd  you  last  night  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  answered  nurse,  "  and  I  wish  he 
may  never  turn  out  a  worse  fellow  than  the 
rogue  who  played  his  part." 

The  excitement  and  gayety  was  calming 
down  a  little,  when  Harry  suddenly  said,  "  See 
there,  papa.  There  must  be  a  fire,"  and  he 
pointed  towards  the  window. 

Mr.  Bradford  hastily  drew  back  the  curtain, 
and  as  a  crimson  glare  was  seen  upon  the 
snow,  it  did  indeed  seem  for  a  moment  as  if 
Harry's  words  were  true. 

But  directly  Mr.  Bradford  said,  "  It  is  no 
lire,  but  a  splendid  aurora ;  let  us  go  up-stairs, 
where  we  may  have  a  better  view  •  "  and  tak- 
hig  Bessie  in  his  arms,  lie  carried  her  to  an 
upper  room,  whitlier  they  were  followed  by  all 
the  rest.  It  was  indeed  a  magnificent  sight 
whicli    met    their   eyes.      Far   down   in   the 


376  Bessie  in  the  City, 

northern  sky  appeared  a  dark  purple  arch ; 
above  it  a  second  of  the  brightest  gold,  while 
from  the  latter  shot  long  rays  or  streamers  of 
every  brilliant  color,  changing  each  instant, 
and  overhead  glowed  the  steadier  crimson 
light,  which,  throwing  its  reflection  on  the 
pure  white  snow,  had  caused  Harry  to  think  it 
was  a  large  fire. 

For  a  moment  Maggie  and  Bessie  stood 
speechless  with  delight,  for  they  had  never 
seen  anything  like  this  before.  Then  Bessie 
exclaimed,  joyously,  "  Papa,  papa,  have  the 
angels  opened  the  gates  of  heaven  to  let  the 
glory  shine  out  'cause  it's  Christmas  night  ?  " 

No  one  smiled  at  the  pretty  idea,  though  all 
were  pleased  ;  for  sweet  as  was  the  thought,  it 
yet  was  solemn,  and  as  they  watched  the  flash- 
ing play  of  those  beautiful  northern  lights,  it 
did  indeed  seem  almost  as  if  there  were  reason, 
in  the  little  darling's  words,  and  as  if  the  hosts 


Christmas,  2>ll 

of  heaven  in  their  rejoicing  over  man's  salva- 
tion might  be  giving  them  some  glimpse  of  the 
glory  purchased  for  them  on  this  blessed 
night. 

But  Mr.  Bradford  whispered  softly  as  he 
drew  her  closer  to  him,  *'No,  my  darling. 
Our  eyes  may  never  behold  the  beauty  of 
heaven  till  our  Father  takes  us  to  himself. 
This  is  the  work  of  his  hand,  and  lovely  it  is ; 
but  it  is  as  nothing  to  the  glory  of  the  great 
white  throne  whereon  he  sits." 

And  so  ended  this  happy  Christmas  which 
our  Maggie  and  Bessie  will  both  remember  as 
long  as  they  shall  live. 


XVIII. 

THE  PURCHASE    OF  THE  LIBRART 

[N  the  Sunday  morning  following  Christ- 
mas, Mrs.  Rush  asked  her  little  schol- 
ars if  they  all  had  their  money  ready  for  the 
library.  Eacli  one  answered  "  Yes,"  and  she 
told  them  she  would  allow  them  to  choose 
what  books  they  would  send  ;  and  that  on  the 
next  day  she  would  take  them  all  down  town 
to  a  large  store,  where  they  would  find  a  great 
number  of  pretty  and  suitable  children's 
books.  Accordingly,  on  Monday  morning,  she 
drove  up  to  Mr.  Bradford's  door  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour.  Maggie  and  Bessie,  ready  for 
the  ride,  were  watching  for  her,  and  did  not 
keep  her  a  moment  waiting.  Then  they 
stopped  at  Mr  Howard's  door  to  take  up  Gra- 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     379 

cio,  and  next  at  Mr.  XoitIs'  for  Lily.  Each 
little  girl,  as  she  entered  the  carriage,  would 
offer  Mrs.  Rush  her  share  of  the  money  ;  but 
she  told  them  they  had  better  keep  it  until 
they  had  bought  the  books,  and  then  pay  for 
them  with  their  own  hands. 

"  Please  don't  say  '  the  books,' "  said  Mag- 
gie. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rush.  "  Are 
you  not  going  to  buy  books  ?  " 

*'  Yes'm,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  then  it  is 
a  great  deal  more  satisfaction  to  say  *  li- 
brary.' " 

"  Oh  !  that  is  it,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  laughing. 
"  Well,  hereafter,  I  shall  be  careful  to  say 
your  *  library.'  " 

''  Not  ours ;  the  log-cabin  children's  li- 
brary," said  Gracie. 

*'  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Rush.  "  You  will 
have  me  all  right  by  and  by.     I  see  I  must  be 


380  Bessie  in  the  City, 

on  my  guard  with  such  very  particular  young 
ladies." 

"  Don't  you  like  to  be  coryected,  Mrs. 
Yush  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Certainly ;  when  I  am  wrong,  I  always 
wish  to  be  put  right ;  and  I  shall  speak  of 
your  log-cabin  library  in  any  way  you  please  ; 
for  you  have  surely  earned  the  right  to  say 
how  it  shall  be." 

"  Tom  says  Maggie  and  Bessie  deserve  more 
credit  than  Gracie  and  I,"  said  Lily,  ''because 
they  really  earned  the  money,  and  Gracie  and 
I  had  it  without  taking  any  trouble  about  it." 

"  But  you  have  denied  yourselves  in  order 
to  give  it,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  ''  and  I  think  you 
ought  not  to  be  without  your  share  of  credit." 

"  What  does  '  credit '  mean  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Maggie,  before  any  one  else 
could  speak,  "  it  means  to  think  yourself  very 
great,  and  to  have  a  fuss  made  about  you.     1 


The  Ptirchase  of  the  Library*     381 

am  sure  wo  did  not  do  it  for  that ;  did  we,  Bes- 
sie ? " 

"  I  know  Tom  did  not  mean  that,"  said 
Lily.     "He  thinks  you're  very  nice." 

*'  And  I  think  Maggie  makes  a  mistake,  and 
does  not  quite  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
word  '  credit,'  "  said  Mrs.  Rush.  "  To  give  a 
person  credit  for  any  action,  dear  Maggie,  is 
only  to  give  him  the  praise  that  is  due  to  him. 
There  is  no  need  to  think  that  people  are 
making  a  fuss  about  you  because  they  do 
this." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Mrs.  Rush,"  said  Maggie. 
"  I  always  do  feel  great  when  people  praise 
me,  and  nurse  says  it  is  not  good  for  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  feeling  great  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Rush.  ''Do  you  mean  you  feel 
vain  and  self-glorious  ?  " 

■  "  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  not  quite  that,  but  I 
feel  pleased,  and  as  if  I  liked  it;  and  1  know 


382  Bessie  in  the  City* 

sometimes  I  do  things  because  I  hope  people 
will  praise  me  ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  I  did  not 
do  this  for  that,  but  because  I  felt  sorry  for 
those  log-cabin  children,  and  wanted  to  help 
them." 

"  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it,  my  dear  littlo 
girl,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  "  and  I  do  not  think 
you  could  have  been  so  earnest  and  persever- 
ing if  you  had  not  had  a  better  motive  than 
the  desire  for  praise.  I  believe  you  have  all 
done  it  from  a  sincere  wish  to  help  others  who 
are  not  as  well  off  as  yourselves  ;  and  it  is  not 
wrong  to  like  praise,  Maggie,  if  we  do  not 
allow  it  to  make  us  vain,  or  to  cause  us  to 
cease  from  well-doing.  We  all  enjoy  it,  old 
and  young  ;  and  if  it  is  sincere,  and  we  feel 
that  we  deserve  it,  it  is  quite  right  to  bo 
pleased  with  the  approval  of  our  friends." 

"  But  Maggie  is  a  great  deal  nicer  than  she 
thinks  herself,"  said  Bessie.     "  I  don't  think 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     383 

anybody  knows  how  very  nice  she  is,  'cept 
me." 

Mrs.  Rush  smiled  at  the  affectionate  little 
sister,  who  never  missed  a  chance  of  saying 
a  kind  or  loving  word  for  Maggie. 

So  they  chatted  away  until  they  reached 
the  bookstore,  where  Mrs.  Rush  went  in  with 
the  whole  of  her  small  flock.  This  was  a  very 
large  store,  and  from  tlie  floor  to  the  ceiling 
the  walls  were  covered  with  shelves,  on  which 
lay  piles  on  piles  of  books.  The  gentleman 
whom  Mrs.  Rush  wislied  to  see  was  engaged, 
and  she  sat  down  to  wait  until  he  should  be  at 
liberty  to  attend  to  her ;  while  the  children 
gathered  about  her,  noticing  all  around  them, 
and  prattling  away  as  fast  as  their  tongues 
could  go. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  lots  and  lots  ol 
books?"  said  Gracie. 

"  I  suppose  the  gentleman  who  owns   this 


384  Bessie  in  the  City, 

store  must  be  about  a  million  years  old,"  said 
.    Lily. 

"  Why,  he  couldn't  be,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  only 
the  people  that  lived  in  the  Bible  were  so  very 
old.  I  wish  I  had  lived  then,  it's  such  fun  to 
be  alive." 

"If  you  had  lived  then,  you  would  bot  be 
alive  now,"  said  Mrs.  iiush,  with  a  smile ; 
"  and  no  one  ever  lived  to  be  a  million  years 
old.  The  world  has  not  been  created  so  long, 
and  the  oldest  man,  Methuselah,  was  only  nine 
hundred  and  sixty-nine  when  he   died.     But 

what  made  you   think   Mr.  must  have 

lived  a  million  years,  Lily  ?  " 

"  Because  he  has  written  such  lots  of  hooks," 
said  Lily ;  '^just  see  how  many !  " 

"  But  you  do  not  think  Mr. has  him- 
self written  all  these  books  ?  " 

''  Why,  yes'm,"  said  Lily. 

"  It  would  indeed  take  a  long  life-time  to 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     385 

^I'lte  so  many,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  "  but  I  do 

not  believe  Mr.  has  written  more  than 

half  a  dozen." 

"  Who  did  it,  then  ?  "  asked  Lily. 

'^  A  great  many  different  persons.     People 

write  books  and  bring  them  to  Mr. ,  and 

he  publishes  them  ;  that  is,  he  has  them  print- 
ed and  bound,  and  then  sells  them." 

"  I  am  glad  it  took  a  great  many  people  to 
do  it,"  said  Maggie,  *'  because  if  they  take  the 
trouble  to  write  books  for  children,  I  suppose 
it's  because  they  like  us  ;  and  it  is  pleasant  t« 
have  a  great  many  people  to  love  you." 

"  I  wonder  why  'most  everybody  loves  chil- 
dren," said  Gracie. 

"  If  you    thought   about    Christmas,  you'd 

know  that,"  said  Bessie.     "  It's  'cause  Jesus 

was  once  a  little  child  ;  and  besides,  when  he 

was  a  man,  he  loved  children  his  own  self." 

Just   then    the   gentleman    for  whom   Mrs. 
25 


380  Bessie  in  the   City, 

Rush  was  waiting  came  forward,  and  said  he 
was  now  at  leisure  to  attend  to  her.  She  told 
him  for  what  she  had  come,  and  that  she 
wished  these  little  giils,  who  were  going  to  pay 
for  the  library,  to  choose  their  favorite  books. 

He  shook  hands  with  them  all,  and  then, 
taking  paper  and  pencil,  told  them  to  tell  him 
in  turn  what  they  would  have. 

Bessie,  being  the  youngest,  had  the  first 
choice,  and  she  named  the  books  slie  liked 
best.     The  others  did  the  same,  but  when  the 

list  was  made  out,  Mr. said  ten  dollars 

would  purchase  several  more,  and  bringing 
some  volumes  which  had  just  been  published, 
said  he  could  recommend  those  for  their  pur- 
pose. The  children  were  quite  ready  to  take 
them  upon  his  word,  and  when  the  whole  tea 
dollars'  worth  was  laid  out,  looked  at  the  pile 

w.th  great  satisfaction.     Mr. offered  to 

send  the  books  wherever  they  might  choose 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     387 

but  that  would  not  answer  at  all.  The  library 
must  be  taken  with  them  in  the  carriage,  and 
carried  home  by  Mrs.  Rush,  with  whom  it  was 
to  remain  until  those  of  the  children's  friends 
who  wished  to  see  it  had  had  the  opportunity, 
when  it  was  to  be  sent  to  Miss  Winslow,  witli 
a  note  from  the  four  little  girls  to  the  Western 
children.  Maggie  was  asked  by  the  others  to 
"  make  up  "  the  note,  and  as  Mrs.  Rush  took 
them  all  home  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  day 
with  her  and  the  colonel,  it  was  done  before 
they  separated  that  evening.  This  was  the 
note  which  Colonel  Rush  wrote  out  and  put 
up  with  the  books  :  — 

''  Dear  log-cabin  children,  whose  names  we 
don't  know,  but  we  like  you  all  the  same, 
please  to  take  this  library.  Four  of  us  send 
it  to  you,  —  Maggie  and  Bessie  and  Gracie 
and  Lily ;  and  I  am  Maggie,  and   the   others- 


388  Bessie  ill  the  City. 

are  the  rest.  Our  dear  teacher,  Miss  Wins* 
low,  who  used  to  have  us  all  except  Bessie, 
who  was  too  little,  in  her  Sunday-school  class, 
is  going  to  teach  you  in  your  log-cabin,  and 
Santa  Glaus  put  a  log-cabin  in  my  stock- 
ing, but  I  knew  it  was  Fred;  and  she  says 
you  have  very  few  books,  and  we  would  like 
you  to  have  some  more  ;  so  we  have  bought 
this  library  for  you,  and  we  hope  you  will 
read  all  the  books  and  like  them.  Papa  and 
Colonel  Rush  are  going  to  send  you  some  pic- 
ture cards  with  hymns  and  verses  like  those 
in  our  Sunday-school,  and  Miss  Winslow  is 
going  to  take  you  some  Bibles,  so  you  see  if 
you  want  to  learn  about  Jesus  you  can,  and 
if  you  are  good  children,  you  will.  Miss 
Winslow  is  very  good,  and  you  will  love  her 
very  much,  and  we  are  very  sorry  she  is 
going  away  ;  but  now  we  have  Sunday-school 
in  Mrs.  Rush's  room,  and  she  is  so  sweet  you 


rhe  Purchase  of  the  Library,     389 

can't  think,  and  the  colonel  does  tell  us  such 
stories ;  so  wc  can  spare  Miss  Winslow,  and 
you  must  be  very  good  to  Miss  Win  slow,  be- 
cause she  left  her  comfortable  home  to  be  a 
missionary  to  you,  and  Mr.  Long,  too,  so  you 
ought  to  mind  all  they  say,  and  if  you  do  not, 
you  ought  to  be  served  right,  and  never  have 
any  of  the  library  books  to  read.  But  wo 
think  you  will  be  good,  and  some  day  Miss 
Winslow  is  going  to  write  to  us  about  you, 
and  if  you  are  nauglity,  you  would  be  ashamed 
to  have  it  put  in  a  letter.  Dear  log-cabin 
children,  we  all  send  you  our  love,  and  we 
hope  you  had  a  Christmas-tree,  and  here  are 

our  names :  — 

Maggie  Bradford. 

Gracie  Howard. 

Lily  Norris. 

Bessie  Bradford.*' 

The  colonel  wrote  it  all  down  just   as  Mag 


390  Bessie  in  the   City. 

gie  dictated  it  to  him,  but  when  Miss  Winslow 
read  the  letter  to  the  Western  children,  she  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  read  the  whole  of 
the  last  part,  but  left  out  a  few  words  here 
and  there.  As  Maggie  did  not  know  this,  it 
did  not  make  any  difference  to  her. 

The  books  were  covered  and  put  up  in  a 
neat  box  which  Mr.  Bradford  provided,  and 
then  given  into  Miss  Winslow's  care.  She 
was  very  much  pleased,  and  told  the  little 
girls  she  should  not  fail  to  tell  the  Western 
children  all  about  their  kind  young  friends  in 
the  East. 

Some  weeks  after  she  went  away,  there 
came  a  letter  from  her,  directed,  "  To  my 
dear  little  scholars."  It  had  come  in  another 
to  Mrs.  Rush,  and  arrived  on  Saturday  night ; 
so  when  they  came  to  her  room  on  Sunday 
morning,  they  found  this  pleasure  awaiting 
them.     Mrs.  Rush  read  it  aloud  to  them. 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     391 
"  My  Dear  Little  Girls,  — 

"  After  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  we  ar- 
rived at  this  place.  We  lost  several  articles 
of  our  baggage  by  the  way,  but  I  am  glad  to 
tell  you  tliat  your  precious  library  was  not 
among  them.  That  came  quite  safely,  and  it 
would  do  good  to  your  generous  young  hearts 
to  see  what  delight  these  poor  children  take  in 
the  books  ;  and  not  only  the  children,  but  the 
grown  people,  also,  are  very  anxious  to  have 
them. 

"  We  are  not  living  in  a  large  city  or  village, 
but  in  a  small  settlement  of  a  dozen  or  so  of 
houses,  and  very  different  the  houses  are  from 
those  you  are  accustomed  to.  They  are  all 
log-cabins,  our  own  as  well  as  the  rest ;  but 
we  manage  to  make  ourselves  pretty  comforta- 
ble and  quite  contented.  Then  we  have  so 
much  to  do  that  there  is  no  time  to  think  of 
little  annoyances. 


392  Bessie  in  the  City. 

''  On  Sunday  the  people  come  from  other 
settlements,  miles  and  miles  away,  to  hear  Mr. 
Long  preach  ;  and  when  our  simple  services 
are  over,  the  children  heg  for  the  books  you 
have  sent  for  their  use.  Some  of  them  are 
well  thumbed  already,  but,  on  the  whole,  they 
take  good  care  of  them,  partly  for  their  own 
sakes,  partly  for  that  of  their  kind  little  friends 
so  far  away. 

"  On  week-days,  Mr.  Long  rides  from  place 
to  place  to  teach  and  talk  to  the  people. 
When  I  can  borrow  a  pony  or  mule,  I  go  with 
him,  and  the  cry  is  always  for  '-  books, 
books.'  I  take  two  or  three  from  the  library 
with  me,  and  leave  them  here  and  there. 
They  pass  from  house  to  liouse,  till  all  who 
wish  have  read  them,  then  they  arc  returned 
to  me,  and  others  asked  for. 

*'  There  is  an  old  colored  woman  who  lives 
in  one  of  the  houses  near  us ;  she  has  not  left 


The  Purchase  of  the  Library,     393 

— -ss^sa-- — 

her  bed  for  years ;  she  is  lame  and  helpless. 
I  went  to  see  her  when  I  first  came  here,  but 
she  took  little  notice  of  me  until  I  offered  to 
read  to  her.  Then  slie  turned  her  face  to  me, 
and  asked  if  I  had  books.  I  told  her  yes,  and 
seeing  she  was  ready  to  listen,  I  opened  my 
Bible  and  read  several  chapters  to  lier.  To 
my  surprise,  she  seemed  to  be  quite  familiar 
with  God's  word,  and  asked  for  certain  chap- 
ters, not  by  name  or  number,  but  by  repeat- 
ing some  verse  they  contained,  or  by  telling 
me  the  subject.  Since  then  I  liave  been  to 
see  her  every  day ;  and  thinking  she  might 
like  to  hear  some  of  the  pretty  stories  in  your 
library,  I  took  one  with  me  the  other  morning. 
She  seemed  well  pleased  with  the  idea,  and 
before  I  began,  I  told  her  how  I  had  procured 
the  books.  She  was  much  interested,  and  at 
last  asked  the  names  of  the  children  who  had 
been  so  thoughtful.     When  I  mentioned  Mag- 


394  Bessie  in  the   City, 

gie  and  Bessie  Bradford,  lier  whole  face 
lighted  up,  and  she  asked  me  whose  children 
they  were.  I  told  her,  and  she  at  once  said 
she  had  known  Maggie's  and  Bessie's  papa 
wlien  she  was  at  home,  '  to  dear  ole  New 
York ; '  and  told  me  tliat  her  brother  Jack, 
if  he  were  still  alive,  often  went  to  see  Mr. 
Bradford's  family,  who  were  very  kind  to 
liim.  So  when  Maggie  and  Bessie  see  old 
Jack,  they  can  tell  him  this  news  of  his  sister. 
Poor  old  Dinah  never  tires  of  asking  about 
you,  or. of  talking  of  the  family,  and  when  I 
go  away,  always  begs  me  to  leave  one  of  the 
library-books  with  her.  She  cannot  read  a 
word,  but  she  says  she  likes  to  look  at  the  pic- 
turs,  and  to  hold  the  book  in  her  hands,  be- 
cause it  does  her  good  just  to  feel  it  and  think 
it  came  from  '  dear  Massa  Henry's  chillen.' 

"  So,  my  little  darlings   all,  you  see  what 
joy  your  present  has  brought  to   these   poor 


The  Purcnase  of  the  Library,     395 

people.  That  God  may  bless  you  for  your 
readiness  to  help  in  his  work,  and  reward  you 
abundantly  is  the  prayer  of 

"  Your  loving 

"  Mary  Long." 


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4 


i^ 


